


When It's Time

by GhostlyWitchAvenger



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: AOS!Jim that is, BAMF Leonard "Bones" McCoy, Bittersweet Ending, Cross-Posted on LiveJournal, Falling In Love, Flashbacks, Heartbreak, Hurt Bones, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Night Terrors, Oblivious Jim, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, TOS characters are NOT prime characters in this story, also i forgot to mention that most of this is normally written at 2 in the morning, i just don’t know how to tag them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-01 06:50:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 24,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13289382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostlyWitchAvenger/pseuds/GhostlyWitchAvenger
Summary: There was a reason why Leonard never tried after Jocelyn. Never tried to love, that is. It never worked, the universe just didn’t deem him worthy of it.He lets his guard down once more anyway and lets someone in. It’s been so long. He knows he’s missed this.But oh how he hated being proven right.Will rewrite at a later point in time





	1. Chapter 1

On a normal day, Leonard would have found the various sounds of Sickbay comforting. The beeping, the low mutters, the periodic hiss of a hypospray, the computer’s voice… But today, he felt like he would murder one of his nurses if he didn’t leave _right now_. And technically he couldn’t. At least, not until his shift was over. Which would be in about ten minutes.

There should be a rule that if you’ve just wrapped up an intensive surgery, it doesn’t matter if your shift is over or not, you should get an automatic free day. What was particularly frustrating was that the surgery itself could’ve taken merely an hour or two, yet Lieutenant Jobu’s body had decided to present problem after problem that made a simple appendix removal turn into a twelve-hour hassle. Twice he had lost Jobu on the table, and whenever he seemed to have solved one issue, another presented itself.

It didn’t help that he had flashbacks to when he had worked tirelessly to revive Jim after...

You’d think, having been a trauma surgeon in Georgia for quite a while, he’d know when to be prepared. Nope. He had gone in expecting to be in and out and hadn’t bothered to change into something more comfortable, more notably his shoes. Now, his feet were throbbing, sending a flash of pain up to his knees with each heartbeat. Not to mention how exhausted he was. He’d run into carts and doorframes more times than he’d care to count.

This was unavoidable. M’Benga had been out with the flu the entire week, and that meant Leonard himself had to fill in to make up, as he was the only one qualified to. That, and having more members of the crew coming in for therapy sessions, meant for a hectic week with little food or sleep.

Leonard’s head made an audible thump when it made contact with the desk, jolting him awake. God damn, this report was never going to get finished.

“Doctor,” A familiar voice said, sternly. Even without turning, he could see Christine’s sweet, concerned face, which always made her words sting less. Something she resented, “Perhaps you should turn in. I can tell without pulling out a tricorder that you’re bordering on sleep deprivation and don’t think I don’t keep tabs on your nutrition card. You haven’t been eating enough and your blood sugar is sure to be low if I checked. I swear, for all that you lecture the captain, you’re just as bad where it concerns your health.’

Well, he couldn’t argue with her on that, “I’ll turn in after I finish this report, Chris.”

“No,” And he couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at that when he finally turned to face her, probably looking like the hobgoblin while doing so, “You’re hardly close to finishing. Get a juice. Go to bed. Your shift is just about over anyway and I’ll hypo you if I have to.”

If there was any doubt she worked for him, there was none now.

Chuckling, he raised his hands in surrender, “Okay, okay. I’m goin’.” He hissed sharply when his back protested at standing, long fingers reaching for the aching spot on his spine. No matter what anyone said to him, he was getting too old for this. Doesn’t matter if he was only in his thirties.

Besides, a juice did sound good. Orange juice. With lots of pulp. Yeah.

As if the universe was just out to get him, the comm whistled right as he went to leave. A silent curse and a prayer to whoever was listening, he answered while blatantly ignoring the stink eye his nurse was giving him, “Sickbay.”

“Come down to the Transporter room with a DNA analyser. I would like to have some… guests examined.”

“Be right down,” The connection cut off with a crackle and he made his way deeper into Sickbay.

“Leo!”

The equipment they didn’t use often were always stored in a cupboard near the back, out of the way and unobtrusive. Rarely did their duties call for DNA analysers.

“What was that about going to your quarters, again? For god’s sake Leonard, you’ve been awake for almost thirty-six hours!”

“Relax, Chris,” McCoy yawned around her name, reaching blindly for the device because he was the CMO of this godforsaken ship and he knew where _everything_ was, “This shouldn’t take long, or at least, it’ll take significantly less time than that report. Besides, I’m headin’ in that direction. It’d just be another stop on the way.”

“And how, exactly, do you plan on getting the data into the computer so that it can be logged?”

At that, he held up a PADD triumphantly, “I’ll send it to you, then you can put it in while I sleep like a newborn baby. Sound fair?”

The look on her face already told him he had won, “Fine. But if you're not in your quarters in fifteen minutes - trust me, I'll check - I'll drag you back to Sickbay by your ear and then you'll _really_ get your sleep.”

“You're a frightenin’ woman, Christine Chapel. But you take such good care of me.”

Yeesh, he got sappy when he was tired. But he didn't find himself regretting his words when Christine's hard expression softened in favour of a smile, practically glowing at the compliment.

“Alright, turn off that southern charm of yours before I faint. Shoo.”

The trip to the Transporter room had taken more energy than he had thought it would, for by the time he made it there, he was about ready to keel over. After taking a second to gather his wits about him, the doctor entered to find Jim, Spock, and Scotty on one end of the room, and three men on the other. While a look of suspicion on Jim was never a good sign, nor was the thick air of tension either, Leonard couldn't help but be intrigued by the other people before him.

One was a Vulcan, though it wasn't hard to come to that conclusion. The man couldn't be a Romulan. They were tattooed after all, and he hadn't seen one since…

He kind of reminded Leonard of Spock, but he was sure that - if he were to voice that particular thought - the first officer would simply say that he was too human to notice the difference.

The shortest of the three looked to be the oldest, his back hunched over in the way a long time at a desk would do to a spine. He would know, his own back was well on its way there. His eyes held a liveliness, though. A kind he hadn't felt since before...

The last one stood only a few inches shorter than the doctor, however, he held a confidence that Leonard always found himself lacking. This made his presence feel larger than his physical form, and McCoy found himself envying the man.

Of course, none of that mattered when he finally noticed what they were wearing. They were dressed in these knock-off Starfleet uniforms - Mr Confident was wearing green for crying out loud - and their pants flared at the shin. Let's not get started on the boots, which had some interesting heels on the soles.

Starfleet officers didn't make it a habit to ride on horses, so the purpose escaped him.

“What’s with the boots?” Bones commented offhandedly, not even looking at Jim and missing the warning look the blonde sent his way. The one in green - Mr Green now, instead of Mr Confident- had focussed on him, giving him an appreciative once-over with a soft smile on his face. _Weirdo_ , “Alright, I don’t know who...”

Halfway through speaking, he broke into another one of those infernal yawns, swaying just ever so slightly on his feet, “You look tired, sir. Perhaps you shouldn’t be awake right now.”

“He's fine,” Jim forced through gritted teeth. Leonard found himself grumbling under his breath.

“Damn infant, I can speak for myself. I know I’m tired, it doesn’t take a doctor to figure that out. After we do whatever my cap’n wants me to do here I’m goin’ to bed. So, who’s first?”

Mr Green’s smile widened as he stepped forward, his heels clacking on the floor - hey, those boots were growing on him, maybe he should get himself a pair.

“Open wide,” There was no hesitation at the command, the shorter man's eyes never leaving his face, even after he withdrew from scraping the inside of his cheek for those loose epithelial cells.

Immediately, a hand was offered to him as the device whirred to life, “I make a habit of knowing the names of the people who I give my saliva to.”

Now he knew what people meant when they said someone's voice was like honey. Woo, boy.

Nevertheless, the joke caught him off guard enough for a wide smile to crack his face without his permission. He found himself not having the heart - or the energy - to wipe it off his lips. He accepted the hand with a firm grip.

The kind he always liked to give. It showed he was trustworthy, dependable, and it often made his patients feel safe. It was nice to get it in return.

“Leonard McCoy. Chief Medical Officer of the _U.S.S. Enterprise_.”

Leonard hardly noticed that the older gentleman straightened at that when Mr Green changed the position of their hands, into something achingly familiar to him, “Well, Doctor McCoy, I must say you have the most beautiful eyes on this side of the galaxy.”

He couldn't stop the heat from rising to his cheeks when a kiss - so gentle it almost hurt - was placed on his knuckles, “I don't know what you're talkin’ ‘bout,” Retrieving his hand with little resistance, he shoved it into his pocket. It doubled to hide his shaking. For some reason, he could still feel the feather-light touch of his lips. Must be his tired brain, “‘Sides, you’ve got hazel eyes, too. They’re not all different from mine.”

“Then, perhaps, it's the face that makes them beautiful,” This time, a hysterical laugh burst forth, startling both himself and most of the people present. He did his best to ignore when a fresh wave of dizziness washed over him and the room swam before his eyes, finally turning towards Jim, who looked slightly constipated after witnessing the exchange. Leonard shifted his foot back discreetly to keep himself balanced and to ride out the wave of vertigo.

“Oh, Jim, where do you find these people?” The feeling faded, and he stood straighter, confident that any risk of falling or fainting had passed. He turned back to Mr Green, who no longer looked jovial, but was, in fact, eyeing him warily. Shit, did he notice? “You're delusional…”

And like a puppet with its strings cut, Leonard found his legs collapsing under him. The only thing keeping him from banging his head on the floor was Mr Green’s arms around him, other hands guiding him slowly to the ground. Distantly, he heard Jim shout his name, his face appearing in his line of vision. His features shifted easily between concern for him and a distrustful glare at the man using his lap as a cushion, his green shirt reminding the doctor of the trees surrounding his childhood home in the summer. His fingers could no longer stay curled around the DNA analyser, and it slipped from his grasp.

“'S nothin’, Jim,” The tongue in his mouth felt heavy and swollen. He felt he should be concerned, but he couldn't find the energy to do so. He didn't have the energy to do a lot of things today, it would seem, “Blood sugar 's low 's all. Had a helluva week.”

Were his words slurred? He couldn't tell.

Suddenly, there was a strange whirring device hovering over him. He couldn't tell if it was a medical tricorder. It was similar to his own, but not quite the same. The older man was scowling at the large piece of machinery in his hands. It looked like one of Joanna's little purses.

He missed his baby girl.

“Requesting a medical team to Sickbay. Doctor McCoy has collapsed,” The words, spoken in a cultured voice, took a while to register in his brain, as if they were being spoken deep underwater.

Oh, Chris was going to be _pissed_.

“Spock, don-.”

“Let him call for your nurses, you damn fool,” The older gentlemen reminded him of his dad, and he found himself swallowing around the sudden lump in his throat. He missed the man dearly. Leonard was unsuccessful in pulling away when two fingers were pressed against the pulse in his neck, “Judgin’ by your glucose levels, they've been dangerously low for a while. You shouldn’t be standin’ at all, never mind walkin’ and talkin’ like you have the energy to do it. Which you don't.”

“Didn' think it was that bad,” Was all he managed.

“And you call me a stubborn idiot,” Jim muttered to him, tone deceptively light in comparison to his face. He thinks he'd managed a snort, but he was too tired to tell.

Sleep sounds nice right now. Mr Green's lap was surprisingly comfortable as a pillow.

“No! No sleepin’ you can do that later,” He hadn't even noticed his eyes had slipped shut until they were snapping open, fingers gently slapping his cheek hard enough to jar him, but not enough to hurt. The hands of a doctor, then, “Dammit, Spock, lift his legs.”

The man who reminded him of the late David McCoy loosened his belt. _Loosen any restrictive clothing on a person who has fainted._ The other Vulcan in the room lifted his legs, allowing the blood to rush toward his heart.

Wait… hadn't he said Spock? Was it a common name among Vulcans? That would be unfortunate.

There's a beeping somewhere in the distance, under the water he feels like he's submerged in. Mr Green doesn't look up though, and Leonard finds himself unable to look away. He knew him. From somewhere.

Jim was the one to pick up the device and read the screen. Just as he felt himself fade into the blissful arms of oblivion, he saw his friend look up in surprise at the man cradling his head, one word on his lips:

Kirk.

It all clicked.

Leonard McCoy thought he had seen it all. Romulans from an alternate future hellbent on revenge, human captains that could live forever, murderous augments awoken from cryo sleep: you name it, he’s seen it.

Except for knock-off replicas of Starfleet’s ‘golden trio’. But you weren't going to guess that, were you? Because that wouldn't be fair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on this sketch of mine: http://phantombrushy.tumblr.com/post/165534624410/heres-a-lazy-sketch-of-toskirk-wooing-aosbones


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a filler; kind of boring

There had only been four times that Leonard had woken up in Sickbay since he was first stationed on the  _ Enterprise _ . He didn’t look on those times fondly; there was no reason to. Now, though, the list numbered at five. Significantly less than the whopping number of sixty-seven Jim had stacked - he would know, he kept track - but it was six more times than he would have liked.

The first time had happened near the end stages of the  _ Narada  _ incident - he didn’t like the name, but no one called it for what it was, so neither did he - when the Romulan ship from the future collapsed on itself. The destruction of such an advanced piece of machinery had released an energy wave that had shaken the  _ Enterprise _ so violently, that he had fallen and cracked his head against the nearby biobed.

He sometimes found himself envying the few hours he was unconscious for that day. It was the most sleep he would get in a long, long time.

The second and third time had been of his own volition. He had spent those two nights at his captain's side, back aching and eyes burning with tears. Jim was in a coma, after an insane thirty-six hours of surgery at his CMO’s hand. Radiation from the warp core had fried almost every organ in the captain’s already fragile body, and the serum concocted from Khan’s blood could only repair so much. That, combined with the shock of a forced revival and the many injuries he was already suffering from, Jim’s heart had gone into asystole on him twice afterwards. While he had gotten his best friend stabilised, Leonard had been too scared of losing him. Not again. He hadn’t told anyone how he had felt about the whole situation. Not only was he uncomfortable talking about it, but the couple of times he had tried to broach the topic in hopes of finding some sort of closure he had been shut down. People just… stopped talking about it.

The fourth time had been the result of an alien raid - what species, he didn't know. It wouldn't be the first time a decently sized party of hostiles had boarded the ship, wrecking havoc through the halls. Decks would get powered down, and crew members would be defenseless against their life-threatening injuries. Leonard would take it upon himself to venture down those deserted walkways, healing those he could and for the rest… He gave them mercy. He remembered every single one of them and their sad eyes, knowing and accepting their fate, always haunted him in his dreams.

Of course, it only took one time for him to get unlucky. Only one time for him to come across an intruder by chance. He was taken into Sickbay with a hole in his gut that day.

And like each time before, he woke to Chapel hovering over his bed, a look on her face that promised righteous fury, “Welcome back to the land of the living, doctor,” Moving to rub the sleep from his eyes proved to be a bad idea as a sharp pain radiated from his hand. A quick glance revealed an IV taped to his skin. Most likely feeding him a dextrose solution.

He had no problem recalling what happened.

“How long has it been?”

“Only an hour,” She said through gritted teeth. He didn't spare Jim, sitting at the foot of his bed, a single glance, “You were close to falling into a diabetic coma when you came in. You’re staying here until your blood sugar stays level and you catch up on your sleep. No exceptions,” She looked guilty, “This is my fault. I shouldn’t have let you convince me to let you go,” He found himself shaking his head. 

“No, Chris. I insisted,” He pulled her hand into his, “And I made a pretty convincin’ argument.”

“And as a nurse, I should know better, Leonard.”

“And as your boss, you're used to deferrin’ to me. If it's anyone's fault, it's mine,” Christine didn't say anything at that, simply choosing to finish her check-up before taking her leave, nose buried in her PADD. Thankfully, she took the IV with her, leaving a small bandage in place on his hand.

Leonard could feel the burn of Jim's stare as he settled deeper into the sheets that were only found in Sickbay. He remembered putting in a request to Starfleet a few years ago, asking for softer materials. Too many times had he heard complaints about the rough scratchiness of the fabric, and Leonard always went above and beyond for his patients.

At least, that's what his nurses said. He was disinclined to believe them, because there was always something he could be doing better.

Maybe he could work on the lights next. They were always a little too bright. Closing his eyes brought relief against the pounding ache in his skull.

“You gonna speak? Or are you just gonna stare?”

Jim let out a large gust of air, no doubt frowning even though the doctor couldn't see him, “You need to take better care of yourself, Bones. You shouldn’t be pushing yourself to the point of fainting.”

“You’re one to talk, Jim,” He kept his eyes shut, folding an arm under his head, “This isn’t somethin’ I make a habit of, unlike  _ you _ .”

“This isn't about me, I'm worr-.”

“Anyway, you just gonna stare?”

“What?”

“I'm talkin’ to the other Kirk. He's givin’ me the  creeps.”

“My apologies,” Leonard could hear the soft footfalls of their new guest, drawing closer from where he was hiding mostly out of sight. He was taking care to be quiet, “You gave us all quite a scare. Has your blood sugar levelled out?”

“I wouldn’t know for sure, I haven’t seen my own damn chart. But I do feel better and Chris just left with the IV.” 

“That's good.”

“I thought I told you to stay with your escorts, James,” The ice in Jim's voice caught Bones off guard, and he gently pushed himself into a more elevated position. James - he guessed that's what Mr Green will be called from now on - hurried over to place a supporting hand on his back, adjusting the pillows so he could rest against them.

“Well aren't you a gentleman.”

“You'll have my mother to thank for that.”

“Captain,” Both Kirks snapped their gazes to the newcomers. Spock - Leonard's Spock - was standing by the open curtain, hands behind his back like he always had them. Couldn't he be a bit more creative when it came to his 'idle’ poses? It must take a lot of energy to make it look like he had a stick up that Vulcan, green behind of his, “There is some data I must show you, regarding the transporter.” Jim stood with an 'excuse me’ before heading out of Sickbay, his eyes promising Bones hell if he so much as set a toe out of bed. The doctor certainly wasn't planning on it, he was very comfortable thank you very much.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, taking in the ambience of their surroundings. A mildly irritated voice sounded somewhere off to their right, and a feeling of nostalgia spread through Leonard.

“It's been too long since I heard a bonafide Georgian accent other than my own on this ship. Even if that other person is technically me. Find myself missin’ it most times. Missin’ home…”

James gave him a curious look, before pulling Jim's vacated chair towards himself. Even sitting down, he looked everything like the captain he probably was, “Do you get homesick a lot?”

“Just about as much as the next person, I would think. I'm in space with these knuckleheads more often than I'm home, so I've forgotten what my ma’s sweet tea tastes like,” Already, he could feel sleep lingering on the edges of his consciousness. The amount of sleep debt he'd accumulated was probably obscene. It certainly would explain why he was being so chatty with this not-quite stranger, “So what's your story?”

“Pardon?”

“Your story. I’m already guessin’ some ion storm messed up your travels. If not, don't tell me. Most of that sails right over my head. I meant your life. There ought to be some differences between you and Jim besides looks.”

“The ship _did_ pass through one when we were beamed up, so it's certainly not out of the realm of possibility. But… perhaps my story should wait when you're more awake, yes?” Leonard hadn't even realised he was already nodding off, eyelids fluttering as he unconsciously fought to stay alert.

“Sorry,” Leonard grunted, before turning onto his side, “It's just been a really long week.”

“So I've heard. You can sleep, doctor.”

“Leonard. Or any variation of it, if you'd prefer. I think introducin’ yourself the way you did calls for a first name basis,” He could feel the embarrassment coming off of James in waves.

“About that. I owe you an apology.”

“For what? I'm not holdin’ it against you. No one's certainly trippin’ over themselves to say such things to me. It was nice,” Pulling the blanket up to his neck proved effective in keeping him warm. That was another thing he should look into. Sickbay scrubs - scrubs in general, for that matter - never held body heat well. There must be something that someone could do to change that. 

He nearly started when warm hands adjusted the blanket around his shoulders. Jeez, was this man trained to take care of people? Because if so, he was damn good at it.

"Well, I should leave you to your rest. Sleep well, Len,” The sound of the curtain closing around his bed drowned out his mumbled response. He noted that James hadn't said anything to his words, but he couldn't find it in him to look into it too much. Leonard didn't think anyone would know what to say to something like that, anyway.

But he called him Len. The last person to ever call him that was his mother, the sweet little thing. He hasn't seen her in  _ years _ .

He found himself liking it as he drifted off into a dreamless sleep. It was like a little bit of home.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a decent chapter, but I may come back to this to edit it

“I want you to promise me something,” Was what Christine lead with as she sat on the now empty bed. Leonard kept changing, not minding in the least that he was just pulling on his boxer briefs. She was a nurse, he was a doctor. Nudity didn't bother either of them.

“Oh?” He turned to her, smoothing the wrinkles out of his medical tunic. The white material felt looser than it used to, and now that he was alert enough to notice, it took nothing to guess he'd lost weight in the last couple of weeks.

“I know I can't keep you off duty. Only M’Benga can do that, and he says you're fine,” Funny, he still felt tired, but he had a sneaking suspicion that his exhaustion was more of the mental variety, “But I managed to convince him to keep you on light duty until next shift. I don't want you on your feet for long periods of time. Can you sit behind a desk for most of Alpha without complaint?”

He froze in folding his scrubs, an incredulous look on his face, “You really think I would gripe at you? Come on, Chris. You know me better than that.”

She shrugged, blonde hair shifting over her shoulders at the action. The look on her face made a small coil of guilt tighten in his gut. He resumed folding his scrubs, “I also thought you'd tell me if it felt like anything was getting to be too much,” Her hand, smaller and softer than his own, gently gripped his bare forearm and halted his movements, “I worry for you, Leo.”

“I know. I'm sorry,” Leonard covered her hand with his, squeezing gently, “I don't mean to make you worry. You're a good friend, and I promise to come to you next time. Pinky promise.” 

Chris let loose a rather uncharacteristic giggle as she wrapped her own pinky around his, “What are we, children?”

“Why not? We're on a ship full of them after all.”

“ _ Some  _ of us need to be the parents.”

Pulling away to dump the folded scrubs in the laundry bin - so many of his nurses had given him a hard time about his habit of folding and dumping - he moaned, “Why do you have to be so responsible, Chris? Why?”

“Med school taught me that one. Now, on to your first task,” Seemingly from nowhere, though he knew better, Christine pulled out a PADD, “These need Captain Kirk’s signature. They're the reports for your alternate selves.”

“Really?” He reached to turn it on to take a quick peek - just a peek, honest - but Chapel pulled it out of his reach. If he lunged for it, he could grab it. But she knew he wouldn't, damn her.

“Nu-uh.  Doctor M’Benga has already looked at these and signed off on them.  _ You _ are just delivering.”

“Alright, alright,” Leonard took the PADD without glancing at it, because he knew that would just give Chris the idea that he was going to look at the reports anyway, “I'll be back in a few.”

Even if that was the case - which it's not because he knew when to not cross a line, no matter how tempting - he wouldn't do it in front of her.

Various crew members greeted him with a nod or a 'hello’ as he passed by, and he was reminded of why he stayed on this ship. When it got to be too much, and where he felt like the only relief he'd find was at the bottom of a bottle or off this ship, he remembered these faces that smiled at him when he passed. These people who looked at him and  _ wanted _ him here.

They made the nightmares and pain worth it.

He was in such a good mood and thinking that the day would go smoothly, that his brain promptly short-circuited when the turbolift doors opened.

The aliens dressed in clothing made of scraps - pirates? - were holding mean looking disruptors, aimed at members of the bridge crew. How the hell did they even get on the bridge in the first place?

Leonard's brain didn't start again until he was roughly grabbed from behind, an arm like steel pressing against his neck.

His instinct to fight, however, didn't kick in until he saw Jim at the feet of who he assumed to be the leader, his eye already swelling shut and blood staining his yellow uniform, “Don't fight,” His eyes said.

_ Like hell. _

With a yell, because he always had a little flair for the dramatic, Bones threw his head back. Hard. Not only did it break his assailant's nose, but it also provided a large enough distraction for the others to fight against their own captors.

_ Good.  _

Surprisingly enough, the glass of his PADD shattered when he brought it down on the pirate's head. Christine was going to rip him a new one for breaking it.

A short cry was ripped past his lips when a heavy blow landed on his back, nearly forcing him to his knees from the sheer amount of power. Yep, that was going to bruise.

Thankfully, his private lessons with Hendorff paid off when he turned and grabbed the alien’s head, green skin warm under his touch as he slammed their face into the bulkhead. Hopefully, that would keep them out for a while.

The discarded disruptor was already in his hand and raised before he could think about it, “You kill me; I kill your captain!”

Their leader, whoever he was, wasn't anything special to look at. Green skin, like the others that were now lying unconscious on the ground, and eyes so pale they looked almost white. These features were easy to overlook when Bones raised his weapon, intent on shooting the ugly smirk off his face.

But Jim's face was so close to his, and he was still kind of new to the whole 'be a hero and shoot the bad guy’ schtick. The pirate captain seemed to have known this too and he started to laugh, “You are merely a healer! You cannot bring yourself to stop me, and I will be able to go on to rape, pillage, and lay claim on what is rightfully mine!”

In short, abrupt movements he lowered the weapon.

“Success is mine!”

No. It wasn't.

It all happened so fast, and for a minute or two, he knew he had blacked out. One second, he was bringing the weapon back up, intent on nailing the bastard between his two  _ pale, evil eyes… _

“Bones? Bones, talk to me.”

And the next, he was cold. He could do nothing but stare at Jim, hearing him but not. Jim was hurt. Who hurt him?

As he reached forward to prod at the bruises blooming under blue eyes, just over Jim's shoulder, he caught sight of a headless, green body lying in a pool of dark blood and  _ oh my god he did that _ .  _ He killed someone. Another person - among countless others - to weigh his soul when he died and awaited judgement _ ,  _ and found him  _ wanting.

He felt sick. He had to get away. Away from the blood and the stares and the whispers and...

He ran.

* * *

Christine found him pressed close to the wall in his quarters, knees pulled to his chest and wrapped tightly in a thick blanket. The doctor's gaze was set on somewhere far away, and for the most part not showing he even noticed her presence.

Worrying her lip, she hesitated in the entrance. This was the worst she'd ever seen him. Some days, she was helpless to watch as he took on more than he could handle, driving himself into the ground. Then there were days like these when she wanted to wrap him up and take him away from here. Didn't matter where, so long as he was protected and sheltered. Somewhere he could be safe and healthy. She could do it, too. She had friends in every department. She could sneak him off with their help, “Leo? I heard about earlier. Can I come in?”

She wasn't sure he'd even respond, but was surprised when he muttered, “You don't need to ask. You’re always welcome.”

“It's polite to ask,” But she made her way to him nevertheless, using his bed to help guide her descent to her knees. Seeing the tears in his eyes, reflecting the distant starlight from his window, almost triggered some of her own. Oh, Leo, “I came to check on you.”

“As a nurse, or as a friend, Chris?” The blanket, one he had told her his mother had knitted for him when he had graduated high school, was pulled tighter around his trembling frame. He eyed the medical kit slung over her shoulder. With mistrust or apprehension, she couldn't tell.

“As a nurse,” She sighed, before resting a hand on his ankle. He was cold, “And as a friend. I've known you for years, in both a formal and an informal capacity. One of the things I can say for certain is that, no matter who or what they are, it always hurt you to raise your hand against someone else.”

Leonard shook his head, finally looking her in the eye, “No. It was different this time. I killed him with intent. I  _ wanted _ to take his life,” Before Christine could protest, he continued, “But the bastard was goin’ to kill Jim. I couldn't just… do nothin’.”

“I understand, Leo. I really do,” She squeezed his ankle before letting go, inching her way into a sitting position beside the doctor, shoulder pressed against his. Christine held the tricorder aloft, “If I turn this on, will I see that your blood pressure is up?”

“No doubt,” Concern coiled around her heart.

“On this ship you’re put in this position too often. And it's always left to just the two of us to pick up the pieces.”

“You don't have to, you know.”

And as much as she wanted to take him away from everything, sometimes she wanted to throttle him, “That's not what I'm trying to say, and you know it. I'm not enough, Leo. You need to talk to someone about this. A professional someone.”

For the first time since she'd entered his quarters, he showed emotion aside from his numbness. Bitter laughter filled the air, “I’m the only certified therapist on board, Chris. Who else is possibly qualified?”

Gently, she placed a bandage on his cheek. The cut was too small for a dermal generator, which she had brought with her as well, just in case, “Then do it long distance. Lord knows you won’t talk to me about everything. And don’t think I haven’t noticed how your reactions have gotten worse over the years. I know you’re still carrying scars from the incident with Nero.”

It had been the wrong thing to say, evidently, as Leonard stiffened at that, rounding a cold glare in her direction, “I’ll be fine. It’s not impedin’ my work.”

“Isn't it?”

“Get out, Christine.”

“The point is that  _ this _ ,” She waved her hand about, “Isn’t healthy.”

“I said get the fuck out.”

“And I will, if you get some sleep,” She was already standing though. They'd been through this enough to know the routine. She'd come in, and inevitably say something that hit too close to home that he'd snap at her. They'd part on terms that weren't bad but not quite good either, and then he'd climb into bed.

This time wasn't really any different.

“I will.”

“I know,” She dropped a kiss on his cheek before she left, showing him she had no hard feelings. The door hissed shut behind her.

In Leonard's opinion, she should. If she were smart, she'd stay away from him and his problems. He'd told her as much one time. And, of course, she'd ignored him.

Friends didn't ignore the other's pain.

Which led her to mull over the relationship between Leonard and his captain. Were they friends? McCoy seemed to think so, as did Kirk. And perhaps they were. Christine just had trouble discerning if Jim was willfully ignorant of Leonard's suffering, or if he was just blind to it all.

Entering Sickbay, and being greeted with a concerned captain, told her it was likely the latter, “How's Bones? Is he okay?”

“He's doing as fine as he can be,” The answer was ambiguous, but no matter how many times she said it, it always put Kirk at ease. The line of tension in his shoulders would loosen, a relieved smile would spread across his lips, and he'd nod before turning himself over for inspection. She braced herself against his routine griping and complaining.

What she didn't expect, however, was to be approached by the alternate Kirk. James, she had heard Leonard refer to him as. He bore a hesitant look on his face, fisting the ship's black uniform shirt in his hands, “Nurse Chapel?”

“Yes?”

“Have you seen Le- Doctor McCoy?” Christine noticed his slip-up, but chose not to comment on it. She had noticed him visiting with the CMO nearly every day since his arrival. She wouldn't complain though, McCoy always looked a bit lighter afterwards.

“I have…” Honestly, she didn't know what to make of these people. While holding the same names as the officers she was more familiar with, she had trouble reconciling their vastly different personalities. Both Spocks were similar enough, but the two McCoys? One was practically a crotchety old man who still had a pep to his step, while the other was sturdier in build, but spiritless. Yet, no two could be more different than this universe's Kirk, and the other. While the Captain Kirk she knew was similar to a golden retriever puppy, the one standing before her was more subdued; more mature.

“How is he?”

She wasn't sure how much she should say, “I can't tell you that.”

“Right, right. Doctor-patient privilege. Can you at least tell me if he's okay?”

Her best bet was telling him what she told Jim, “He's doing as fine as he can be.”

To her astonishment, he saw right through it, “So, he's not doing well.”

“No… he's not.”

She wasn't ashamed to say she made up an excuse to book it out of there, leaving James behind with concern in his eyes.

* * *

 

James was grateful to be out of Sickbay. He understood the nurses had to do their jobs, and he had taken the treatment and prodding without complaint, honest. But if he had to sit there for another minute and listen to Jim's incessant chatter, he'd kill him.

Okay, that might've been too extreme. The Captain Kirk of this universe was younger than himself, and brighter. While Jim had certainly gone through his own trials and had grown because of them, there was still an innocence and naiveté to him that he couldn't stand.

Alright, maybe he was jealous of that fact. He would've liked to have been able to brush off the fact that someone had pointed a disruptor at his head, or the fact that said person’s brains exploded all over him and his uniform.

Speaking of, he paused just before the doctor's door, wondering how he was faring. Leonard had brushed past him in his rush to leave the bridge, breath fast and eyes unfocussed. He'd be willing to bet anything that the panicked man hadn't even noticed him.

He'd seen that look enough times on some of his own officers to know Leonard was on the verge of a panic attack. Hopefully, it hadn't been too rough for him.

As if the universe was waiting to say 'bitch you thought’, a muffled scream sounded from the other side of the door.

James didn't hesitate to bang on the door when fear flushed hot through him, “Len? Open up! Let me in!” He hadn't expected an answer, and the scream continued, raw and terrified. His sweaty palms grappled with the keypad, heart beating fast. Various scenarios ran through his head, the next infinitely worse than the last. 

It was hazarding a guess, but maybe his captain's override would work here. There wasn't any time to waste to think about it, he was alone in these halls and those cries were only rising in volume.

When the door slipped open, the last barrier between himself and whatever was on the other side finally dropping, he's not ashamed to admit that his fear gave way to relief almost immediately.

There were no Klingons, no fire; just Leonard tangled up in his blanket, sheets fisted tight as he thrashed from a nightmare. Sweat beaded on his forehead, tears glistening on his cheeks and his face was twisted in unadulterated terror.

For some reason he couldn't currently fathom, the sight hurt him more than any peril he had conjured up.

The number one rule when it came to night terrors, particularly in adults, was to never wake them up. But what choice was there when Leonard started clawing at his own skin, leaving angry red marks in his wake and drawing blood?

“Shhh, it's okay you're safe,” The doctor's panicked shouts and struggles increased under his gentle grip, and would have undoubtedly been hitting him if his wrists weren't grasped firm but gently in James’ hands, “It's okay, Len. It's okay.”

It seemed inevitable when he ended up wrapping the terrified man in a tight embrace, pinning his clawing hands between the both of them as he continued to whisper comforting words in Leonard's ear. Eventually, everything was still and quiet, the only sound being Leonard's heavy breaths against his neck.

“What's goin’ on?” The words were slurred, tired and heavy on the doctor's tongue. 

James had expected confusion, and maybe vulnerability when he pulled back to take a good look at Leonard. What he didn't expect, though, was to see nothing but a cold face staring back at him.

“What're you doin’ in here?  _ How _ did you get in here?” Sensing an argument, James didn't hesitate to withdraw when Leonard forcibly extracted himself from his grasp and inched away from him.

“I heard you screaming in the hall. I apologise if I overstepped, I just… I thought you might've been hurt.”

“Screamin’?” Leonard rubbed at his eyes and appeared baffled when his fingers came away wet with tears. With a sinking feeling, James started to understand that he  _ didn't know _ .

“Yes, is this normal?”

“Not… not that I know of. That would make sense, a lot of people don’t remember when they have a night terror because they sleep through it and-,” Leonard’s face closed off as he abruptly stood, wrapping the blanket tight around him. Belatedly, James realised that Leonard was naked under his sheets and looked away when the doctor stumbled out of the bed. It was an attempt to give him some privacy.  _ Too little, too late _ , “Sorry if I disturbed you. But I'm fine now. You can go.” 

James got up to step forward, but froze when Leonard flinched back. He swallowed harshly, “I’m sorry if I overstepped my bounds, I was just concerned-.” 

And suddenly the doctor was angry, face flushing red as he refused to meet his eyes, glaring somewhere over the captain’s shoulder, “Concerned? You don't even  _ know  _ me! How can you be  _ concerned _ ?” 

“It would take a lesser man to ignore another's pain.” 

“Well, then  _ be  _ that lesser man and go along your way. I don't want you in my business. Leave,  _ captain _ ,” He spat the title out like it was foul, but James knew better. Push people away with harsh words and scathing looks, then they can’t get too close. They can’t hurt you if you hold them at arm’s length. He’d done it himself on more than one occasion. And forcing his concern directly on Leonard? It would only exacerbate his antagonism. 

“I hope the rest of your night is peaceful, doctor,” That was the best he could do. As the door shut after his departure, leaving behind a shaking man and the suffocating air of humiliation and dismay, James contemplated going to Jim about it. 

He was no doctor, but he knew what he was seeing. Well, he wasn’t exactly sure, but the signs certainly pointed to it. But perhaps it’d be best if he kept it to himself for now. James didn't want to anger Leonard further and make things worse than they already were.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another filler, and maybe a little rushed at the end, I'm not sure

Leonard hadn't gone back to bed after that. Don't get him wrong, he was tired beyond belief and he had actually wanted to go back to sleep, but his mind wouldn't let him.

The stinging of the cuts on his torso didn't help matters either.

So, he had night terrors, huh? That was new, but certainly unsurprising. It probably meant there was an underlying problem -  _ or not so underlying. Who was he kidding? He had issues _ \- that he needed to address. Looking at it clinically, he understood that adults weren't as likely to get night terrors as children were. But sometimes certain triggers, like chronic fatigue or emotional exhaustion, could increase a grown individual's susceptibility to terrors. 

They were also common for those with post-traumatic stress disorder.

But he couldn't possibly have that.

“Morning, Bones. So nice of you to finally join us,” Leonard returned a good morning to Jim before taking the only seat left at the conference table, which was in front of James.

_ James _ . He was still mad at him for coming into his room last night. While he couldn't exactly fault him for his concern, for he would have reacted similarly were it anyone else screaming their lungs out, he didn't want his regard. 

No matter how nice it felt to have someone who was almost a stranger to care. 

That little tidbit was easy to ignore, however, when James pointedly tried to make eye contact with him. Leonard unabashedly kept his steady gaze on his captain.

“Alright. I've called this meeting to announce that the admiralty has finally gotten back to us regarding our… duplicate situation,” Leonard had to contain a snort at that, but Nyota was less successful, who managed to stifle her quiet giggle a few seconds too late. The older McCoy gave her an amused glance, “Admiral Nogura relayed in his transmission that the admiralty is willing to let you keep your ranks, but that your duties on this ship will ultimately be left up to me.”

The elder McCoy -  _ oh screw it already just call him McCoy _ \- spoke first, “As much as I'd like to act as CMO to the fullest extent of my abilities, I ain't ever heard of a ship with two of 'em. And since Leonard here - can I call you Leonard?” Leonard nodded for him to continue, “Since Leonard is the CMO of this universe, it's only fair that I work under him.”

“While that's awful kind of you,” And Leonard couldn't help but notice that his accent thickened when speaking to his fellow Georgian, “I'd like you to work on the same level as M’Benga, who - for all intents and purposes - holds the same duties as me but doesn't have to answer to the admiralty. We're short-staffed in medical as it is, bein’ the only two doctors and all, so you takin’ up Beta shift would certainly lighten up the load for the both of us.”

He frowned at that, “No other doctors? That's unbelievable. Of course I'll take Beta. No wonder you were in the state you were in when we first got here. Lord…” He shook his head in disbelief, and it touched Leonard that he was indignant on their behalf. He'd be sure to tell M'Benga about it later over a glass of bourbon, and maybe he'd even invite McCoy to join them.

“What about you, Mr. Spock?” Jim asked, “are you both a First Officer and Chief Science Officer like this nerd over here?” It was subtle, but the look young Spock -  _ just Spock. The other one should just be Mr. Spock. Make it easier on yourself, Leonard _ \- sent Jim's direction was exasperated in a warm, sappy way.

Those two just needed to bump uglies already.

“Perhaps I can do the same as Doctor McCoy will. I can work under your Spock, and spend most of my shift in the labs. If he is amenable, I could help ease his own workload.” 

“That would be most logical, Mr. Spock,” This time, he couldn't hide himself rolling his eyes.

“And you? James?” Finally, the other Kirk tore his gaze from Leonard, turning his attention onto the ship's captain, “No offense, but I'm not ready to become co-captain.”

“None taken,” His gaze darted in Hendorff’s direction, who looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here. Not astonishing in the least. During their weekly training sessions - something Leonard had approached 'Cupcake’ about after one away mission where he was left defenseless - the doctor had listened to Hendorff bemoan these meetings. The burly man much preferred running sims with his security officers and training the newest recruits.

‘All this bureaucratic bullshit is enough to make a man go mad from boredom,’ He had said. Leonard was inclined to agree with him.

“Perhaps if I worked in security during Beta...?” Turns out Hendorff would have a new recruit.

“Hendorff?”

“Don't see why not,” The Chief of Security grunted, shrugging his broad shoulders, “There's always room for more.”

“Well, now that's solved, let's move onto what we were able to gather from the transporter data. Scotty?” The Scotsman startled at that, no doubt having been spacing out during the conversation.

“Ah. Tha’. Well, all I can tell is tha’ the wee ion storm we passed through was the culprit. The transporter showed similar readings to when we got beamed over to tha’ mirror universe.”

James’ surprised 'you went there, too?’ and the following conversation faded into the background as cold sweat trailed down Leonard's spine. The conference room fell away, and he was face-to-face with Spock.

But he wasn't Spock. Because he had a beard, and that  _ fucking _ golden sash that shimmered in the dim light as he reached for his face, eyes cold, face hard, and then he's in his mind and ripping and  _ tearing _ and  _ searching _ and-

“Bones?”

His mouth was dry and his chest hurt. All eyes were on him and he could see James just  _ knew _ . And McCoy was giving a look he was all too familiar with. His father had looked at him like that, almost a lifetime ago, one that said he had known what had happened despite little Leo's claims that 'no I didn't twist my knee climbin’ the tree, pa, I swear’.

Fuck these people and their intuitive asses.

The chair almost toppled at how abruptly he stood, “I… I need to get to Sickbay. I'm already late.”

_ That's right, run away. Run from your problems like you always do. _

“Is it that time already?” Jim was completely oblivious to his turmoil, and so were the other bridge crew. He could tell that, peripherally, they knew something was up, but they couldn't see just how deep and completely his problems ran. Not like the three alternate men sitting in front of him could.

He couldn't place any blame on them. They've known him since Nero, and for Jim, since the Academy. A mess is what he's always been since he boarded that shuttle in Bumfuck, Iowa. These people, who he would never to hesitate to call his friends and family, have never known him otherwise. To them, this was just  _ him _ .

And to these older gentlemen? Well, their own CMO was more put together himself. If he had flashbacks and anxiety attacks plaguing him, he was much better at hiding it.

“No, I just promised Nurse Chapel that I'd meet her early.”

Just as lying got easier, the guilt became heavier.

“Oh, best not to keep her waiting. I should tell you then, while you're still here, that I've assigned more permanent quarters for these three here. They're next to yours.”

And didn't that just take the fucking cake.

It must've shown on his face, because the soft smile on Jim's face melted into concern, “That... won't be a problem will it?”

“No, Jim. It's fine. Is there anythin’ else you wanted to talk about?” Was what he managed to squeak out past the tightness in his throat. At Jim's negative, he released a sigh of relief, “Now, if you'll excuse me.”

Silence reigned only for a few seconds following the doctor's departure, before the meeting resumed. No one said a word about Leonard's panicked face, or his hasty retreat. The older triumvirate exchanged looks amongst themselves.

James didn't pay much attention during the rest of their time in the conference room, Jim's voice becoming white noise as Leonard became his main concern.

There was no doubt. Leonard was still suffering from the various trials of this universe. They haunted him. They dulled his eyes and sucked the life out of him. If this didn't stop, he'd continue to die on the inside.

“I'm concerned about your doctor,” McCoy’s voice snapped him out of his haze. He hadn't even noticed the others had left.

“Why would that be?” Jim had been standing to leave, but he sat back down with a genuine look of confusion and curiosity on his face.

“I'm not sure what, but somethin's goin’ on with him.”

“That's how he's always been. Doctor McCoy… er,” Jim made a face, “I'll call him Bones when I'm around you… he's always been like this. Grumpy, straightforward, a little standoffish…”

“That ain't healthy behaviour.”

“Doctor McCoy, I'm sure that if something was bothering my Chief Medical Officer, not only would he tell me, but he would work to fix it.”

“And the screams?” It slipped out before he could stop it, and James winced when the younger Spock sent a severe look his way. There was certainly no turning back now, “What about those?”

The captain's laid-back demeanour disappeared, as if it hadn't been there in the first place, replaced by a cold, serious set to his lips and shoulders, “Screams?”

“Last night… after what happened on the bridge,” James licked his lips, “I was walking past his quarters. I think he suffers from night terrors.”

“Alpha shift starts in three. This meeting is over.”

“Captain-.”

“No, James. I'm sure this is a one-time thing. He would've told me if he had them. Now, this ship isn't going to run itself.  _ Dismissed. _ ”

And suddenly, it was just James, McCoy, and Mr Spock. He couldn't stop the string of muttered curses from falling from his lips.

“Strange, that the captain has not considered the possibility that the doctor has chosen to keep any issues to himself.” 

James didn’t comment and simply pursed his lips as he thought. He couldn’t help but compare Leonard to his own doctor on occasion, which he scolded himself for. It’s obvious different experiences in this universe have shaped different people. But this behaviour he's seen: the listlessness, the anxiety…

“Does he know he has night terrors?” McCoy asked, grabbing his shoulder to get his attention.

“No. Unless he was lying, but I don't think he was.”

McCoy sighed, pinching at the bridge of his nose, “I'll try to talk to him.”

“Bones…”

“Save it, Jim. It's obvious he's got problems that he ain’t fixin’. And if he's anythin’ like I am, he probably just about bit your head off for tryin’ to help,” James nodded to concede his point, “Let me try. Okay?”

Beta passed by in a blur, his orientation to security lasting the entirety of it. It was exhausting work, but it was nice, even if he was distracted the entire time.

Being a captain wasn't easy, but it was so different than working hands on. As a captain, his duties lie in his words, but as a security officer, his duty lie in his ability to fight. He liked that.

Reaching his new quarters, he paused to stare at the door that neighboured his, and briefly considered knocking before he shot down the idea. He'd already done enough.

Sleep didn't come easy, and James lie awake on his bed for the longest time, listening for screams, but none came. When he did eventually drift off, he slipped into a fitful rest, hoping the people back home were doing fine without the trio for now, and that Leonard’s night terrors were really a one-time thing like Jim seemed so confident they were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, despite it seeming otherwise, Jim hasn't dropped the whole 'night terror' tid-bit


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was kind of rushed, so I'll probably come back to fix this and deepen the dialogue. This does provide a good structure to start with, though. Seriously, I'm not a big fan of this chapter.

The following morning, Leonard woke up with the intention of tearing James a new one. He had gone to bed that night absolutely livid and a mess of shaking nerves, unable to find it within himself to forgive the other Kirk for betraying his unspoken trust.

_ “You know I don’t like it when anyone from my crew hides things from me, least of all my friends.” _

Yes, okay, he didn’t explicitly tell James to keep it a secret, but he had figured it was a given! And having Jim just blindside him like he had, pulling Leonard into his own office after the end of Alpha to confront him, completely threw him off his already delicate balance. 

His captain’s sudden appearance had sent his heart rate through the roof and it had taken everything in him to not flinch away from the unexpected touch when he took him by the arm.

_ “What the hell are you goin’ on about? You can’t just waltz in here like that, unannounced and -!” _

_ “Why the  _ fuck _ didn’t you tell me you had night terrors, Bones?” _

Jim had been, rightfully, incensed. Never mind the fact that Leonard wasn’t even  _ sure _ if they were a daily occurrence, and he certainly hadn’t wanted to talk about it.

_ “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” _

_ “Don’t play stupid with me, Bones. I know you’re smarter than that.”  _

Jim’s fist had banged loudly on the desk, causing a few data chips to rattle dangerously close to the edge. His irritation had faded when he saw Leonard balk at the explosive display of emotion.

_ “I’m sorry, but I’m just so angry that I had to hear it from James, of all people.” _

That had sent Leonard into an outrage, pacing back and forth and promising hell for the alternate  _ Enterprise _ captain. He hadn’t even spared a thought to the fact that Jim was so bothered that James told him. Leonard spat curses and ranted and raved; it was only cut short when Jim had pulled him into a tight hug, sniffling into his shoulder a rambling about how worried he was for him.

_ “Please. Tell me if I’m missing something, because I feel like I’m missing something  _ big.”

_ “It’s okay, Jim. There’s nothin’. I swear.” _

_ “That the truth?” _

_ “Scout’s honour.” _

Another reason he was so mad at James: his big mouth had forced him into a position of lying. Again. Sure, he could just tell the truth and he knew the complicated web he was weaving would bite him in the ass someday, but it was so much easier than admitting he needed help.

He was the CMO of this ship. He healed their cuts, soothed their burns, set their bones, oversaw their surgeries, delivered their vaccinations, listened to the day-to-day of their lives… The crew looked to him - not like they looked to Jim, but they still did -  so what would happen when they found out he wasn’t the strong rock he was supposed to be?

No, it just wouldn’t do. So, with false words of comfort and empty promises, Leonard had been able to placate Jim enough for him to leave. And the doctor was left behind with the overwhelming stench of guilt and fury.

It hadn’t helped at all that Christine, the nosy nurse that she was, heard everything and demanded an explanation. That had led to an argument he regretted having with her. They both ended up saying some… unsavoury things to each other. Heat of the moment and all that. He’d have to apologise to her when he got the chance.

Leonard woke up that morning with the intention of tearing James a new one. But, as it figures, plans had to change.

Especially when something decided to shake the ship so harshly that he ended up on the floor with a rapidly forming knot on the back of his head. All thoughts of maiming James had left as he hurried to his feet, helping other people up in the hall and trying to check them for injuries in the flashing red light of the alarm.

Sickbay was a mess. Ensign Lee was holding a blood-soaked rag to her head, eyes unfocussed as Nurse Wang hurriedly worked to close the wound. Not far from them was Lieutenant Rosi, who was cradling his burned arm to his body. No doubt he got that in engineering.

“Nurse Chapel, get me a burn salve and a dermal regen unit over here!” Leonard managed to yell over the din, and winced when he saw the severity of Rosi’s burns, “Scratch that, I need a hypodermal regen unit and a neural monitor! Burn salve, too! And somebody tell me what the  _ hell _ just happened!”

Somewhere in the recesses of Sickbay, where there were yet even more patients, he could hear McCoy shouting similar instructions.

“It was a solar flare, sir!” Another engineering lieutenant, named Thelis if he remembered correctly, said. She had her leg propped up on the biobed, her pants cut back to give access for the osteo-regenerator over her femur, “Engineering’s a mess. The warp core’s been knocked out and the radiation has messed with our instruments.”

_ It’s not like last time. It’s not like last time. It’s not like-. _

“Christ,” He managed under his breath, taking the equipment from Christine with a nod and gently working to apply the cooling salve to Rosi’s blackened arm. The lieutenant didn’t react much, though, Leonard wasn’t surprised. A lot of his nerve endings were damaged, if the neural monitor was to be believed, “Can’t catch a break on this god forsaken ship. Give me a damage report, Chris.”

“No casualties. So far we’ve got eighteen from engineering, all of them suffering from burns of varying degrees. Two are from the labs, who are also suffering from burns, but they’re from chemicals that spilled during the initial shockwave. We also have another twenty-three in from every department who need to be treated for broken bones and sprains. However, some of our patients are already showing signs of radiation poisoning, and I suspect we’ll be having more coming in. It’s only been fifteen min-.”

“Doctor McCoy, there’s a transmission from the bridge for you,” Nurse Anderson called for him.

“Don’t they know I’m a little busy?” He griped, but turned Rosi over to Chapel, “Alright, I need you to take over. You’re in good hands, lieutenant.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tearing off the gloves he couldn’t even remember putting on and flinging them into a nearby bin like a slingshot, he slammed his fist on the comm Anderson was standing by, who dashed away almost immediately to treat yet another patient who had stumbled in, “Jim, I do  _ not  _ have the time right now. We’re absolutely swamped down here and more keep comin’ in and -.”

“I need you at airlock 5.”

“...excuse me?”

“The solar radiation storm was violent enough to knock the radiation shields loose. I’ve been getting reports that engineering is suffering the most. Thankfully, no casualties. But since so many of my men down in engineering are now in your Sickbay and I need a steady pair of hands-.”

“Are you out of your corn-fed mind?” The words weren’t shouted, but were instead hissed sharply into the mic, “You can’t possibly expect me to go out there and-.”

“I wouldn’t ask you if it wasn’t necessary. The wires that were damaged require a delicate touch,” The speakers crackled with his sigh, “ Look, I know you hate being out there, Bones.”

“Oh, do you now?”

“ _ Bones _ . Please.”

Oh, how he wanted to bare his teeth and just growl. Jim  _ knew _ he could almost get away with anything if he pleaded with him. He knew it and he was using it against him.

This was one of the many reasons why he was captain.

“Fine. I’ll be down in five. In and out, right?”

“In and out. Don’t worry, Spock and James will be out there to help you.”

Well, fuck.

* * *

 

Leonard kept his gaze resolutely ahead, using his arms to propel himself along the hull of the ship. He could see the sparking panel from where he was, and if he kept his eyes set on that, he wouldn’t happen to fully realise that he was in space and he was surrounded by almost pure nothingness.

Nevermind the intimidating star they were currently orbiting. Engineering was close to fixing the warp core, but until that happened, they were still in range for another solar flare and the radiation levels were steadily rising.

They had to get these shields fixed in the meantime.

“Do your angry mutterings help your state of mind in any way?” Spock’s - his Spock - voice sounded over the comm. Good thing the other two were a good distance away from him, he didn’t need anyone in his space at the moment, “Because I am finding them increasingly distracting.”

Leonard scrambled to grab the next rung in the ladder, his legs twitching behind him as he struggled to keep his body straight, “Use your Vulcan mind hoodoo meditation schtick and tune me out. I know you can do it,” He scoffed when Spock didn’t respond, but didn’t push, “Can anyone shut the power off up here? I’m gonna end up bein’ electrocuted and while that’s stimulatin’ for some people, I ain’t one of ‘em.”

He felt a smile tug at his lips when he could hear the bridge crew titter amongst themselves, despite Jim’s explosive sigh, “Power should be turned off now. Scotty’s on standby with instructions.”

Sure enough, the sparks had stopped flying, “Is the feed comin’ in clear, Scotty?” With a grunt, he managed to leverage open the damage panel all of the way. Already, he could feel the anxiety setting in. For any of the engineering crew, they would be able to make sense of what was sitting in front of him. But to Leonard? Everything was just a mess of tangled, coloured wires that seemed like they had no rhyme or rhythm.

“Aye, doctor. Looks like th’ two main feeder wires are in need o’ replacin’. The transducer prob-.”

“In Standard, please. Talk to me like I’m an idiot.”

“A-alrigh’. Do ye see the large green an’ red wires?”

“The exposed ones?”

“Aye. There should be spares for those in yer pack. Yer best bet would be replacin’ those first.”

Easy enough.

“Try not to touch th’ surroundin’ ones. They can be a migh’ finnicky when they wanna be.”

Or not. Rolling his shoulders as much as he could while floating in space, he got ready to fix this mess. Sweat was beading a long his forehead, and the longer he was out here, the more exposed he felt. Nevermind the tether attached to his hip.

“Bones?” He tried to keep the irritation off his features, because he knew the bridge could see his face as he worked, “Your vitals are slightly off. You okay?”

“I’m fine. You know how I feel about space. Disease and danger…”

“...wrapped in darkness and silence,” Jim chuckled, “I know. How could I forget?”

“If it’s too much for you, we can handle it, Len,” James spoke for the first time since they had met at the airlock. The older man had held an air of guilt, and refused to meet Leonard’s eyes when they were suiting up, “I’m just about finished over here.”

“I don’t need your help,” The statement itself could be interpreted in a variety of ways, but with the tone that he delivered, there was obviously some barely concealed anger there, “Mind your business.”

“Bones-.”

“Len, I know you’re mad...”

“Don’t ‘Len’ me. And damn right I’m mad. Wonder why?” Ignoring Jim’s complaints of ‘really? Now?’, Leonard snapped the last of the wires into place, “Alright, what’s next, Scotty?”

“See th’ switch next to th’ black wire? Jus’ turn it off an’ then back on again.”

“That’s it?”

“Yes, sir. You did an excellent job with those wires,” With a smile, Leonard flipped the switch as prompted, and then got to work on sealing the panel shut. He ignored the chatter of the bridge.

“While I appreciate the compliment, I don’t intend on makin’ a habit out of this.”

As if waiting for his chance, James cut in, “I want to apologise.”

“Don’t bother. I ain’t interested,” While Leonard was certainly not the best at melding, his experience with the medical equipment in his Sickbay certainly made the job easier. Any second longer and he’d start clawing at this suit.  _ Not a good idea out here,  _ “I know I told you to be a lesser man the other night, but I didn’t think you’d take it that far.”

“I didn’t mean to, I swear. What can I do to fix this?” The rawness of his voice was enough to set Leonard on edge, and just enough to make him feel bad, “Please.”

With a sigh, he shut off the welder, “James-.”

“Look out!”

Leonard didn’t even get the chance to turn when he was suddenly knocked off his feet. Up was down and down was up as he spun and spun and  _ spun _ . He couldn’t stop the screaming from ripping past his lips, arms flailing around as he tried to grab anything he could get a hold on.

Wait, the tether-.

He felt the snap more than heard it -  _ it would figure, sound doesn’t travel in space _ \- and the tether that was supposed to keep stuff like this from happening failed. And from the glimpses he managed to get with his endless spinning, he was running out of hull to grab on.

If he didn’t find a way to stop, and soon, he’d be as good as dead.

“I’ve got you!”

One second he was careening into space, and the next, he was wrapped in strong arms. While it had felt like an eternity, he knew it was only seconds.

He didn’t need to squint through his helmet to know James had caught him, his arms wrapped tight. Tight like Joanna’s arm used to wrap around his legs, back when she knew who he was.

With twin grunts, James’ tether held tight and successfully stopped them from being carried off into space. Jim’s voice finally crackled over the comms, “-eport! James? Bones? Spock! Report!”

“We’re fine, Jim,” Leonard managed to gasp out, refusing to let go of James, “Can we come back in now? Feel like I’m gonna throw up.”

“I would be amenable to that as well,” Spock’s voice came through, and never had Leonard been relieved to hear his voice, “I do not wish to linger, in case any more flares manifest.”

“What he said.”

Repairs went off without a hitch after that.

* * *

 

Ferrying bigwigs around was a duty the  _ Enterprise _ got assigned a lot, it would seem.

It was also a duty Leonard hated the most.

He understood it, to an extent. Every ambassador or diplomat wanted to be transported by the flagship herself. Stories of her efficiency and heroic ventures -  _ though, that credit went to the crew _ \- reached even the furthest corners of the Federation. They were often painted as these infallible, superhuman individuals by the admiralty. So, trying to live up to those expectation always put a strain on his own sanity.

Not to mention, he had to wear that  _ suffocating, vexatious uniform _ . The only good thing about the formal wear was that it enhanced his form in all of the right places. That, coupled with his tall frame and unapproachable aura, cut him as an intimidating figure.

Even Jim wouldn’t outright approach him during events like these. Currently, he was schmoozing some nameless dignitary while sending pleading looks his way. All Leonard did was smirk and raise his glass in a salute, flaunting his solitude.

People left him alone, for the most part.

“And I thought the uniforms back home were uncomfortable. This sure does take the cake.”

Except for James. And it was getting  _ really _ hard for him to not warm up to the guy.

“I'll never complain about those uniforms ever again, Jim,” McCoy joined them with a small glass his own, filled to the top with Saurian brandy. Absentmindedly, his broad hands swirled the brown liquid as he pulled at his collar. Leonard cracked a smile.

“Glad to know that's a universal constant,” He deliberately lowered his voice, gazing warily at the ambassador not too far away from them, “And then we have to put on a show. ‘Smile big,’ Jim says, ‘Like you-.’”

“‘-want them to be here!’” McCoy and James finished with a laugh, and he couldn’t help but join them, “It only took a younger version of myself for me to realise just how ridiculous that sounds!” James went to take another swig from his drink, but scowled when he found it empty. Leonard had to hide his grin behind his hand, “If you’ll excuse me, I need a refill.”

“Wait.”

James rounded a surprised look on Leonard, but halted nevertheless.

“I just… wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“Len, if anyone should be apologising, it’s me.”

“No,” He shook his head, “Not really. You were only lookin’ out for me. So, I’m sorry for bein’ an ass.”

With an uneasy smile, James gave him a nod, before finally leaving for his drink.

Leonard now felt uncomfortable, being left alone with McCoy, who’s heavy gaze settled on him like one of those weighted blankets Joanna used to be so fond of. And he had an idea as to what he was looking for.

After all, if Jim found out about his issues from James, then it wouldn’t be a reach to believe Mr. Spock and McCoy knew too.

“I found someone.”

“Oh? A qualified someone?”

His hunch was right.

“Yeah. She’s a good therapist, Dr. Okoye. One of the best, actually. When I told her what I needed help with, and how long all of this,” Leonard made a wide gesture with his drink, lips twisting in an attempt to find the correct word, “ _ Stuff _ has been going on, she took me on immediately.”

“That’s…” McCoy turned to fully face him with a relieved grin on his lips, “That’s good. Really.”

Leonard merely hummed at that, taking a small, tentative sip from his glass. Across the room, he could see James trying to save Mr. Spock from a particularly ernest envoy. The poor Vulcan looked about ready to pass out as his captain pulled him away, though he was gradually shifting back to his normal, stoic self. The look he gave James was warm, and it seemed to Leonard that they had what his own Jim and Spock had. Something that could grow into more, given time.

He didn’t know why it saddened him to think about it.

“You know, you could always talk to me. About… anythin’.” With the silence so suddenly broken, Leonard had to scramble to stop himself from spitting out his brandy.

“Pardon?”

McCoy huffed, but it was clearly light-hearted, “I’m offerin’ a drink and an ear, whenever you need it,” Responding suddenly got impossible when he found himself blinking back tears and failing to swallow the lump in his throat -  _ wow, where did that come from? _ Obviously, he wasn’t very successful when McCoy muttered, “Oh… Kid, don’t cry ‘cuz then I’ll start cryin’ too.”

That didn’t help, and instead he started sniffling. Panicked, McCoy tugged him by the arm out of the - thankfully - not-quite crowded room. Leonard was embarrassed beyond belief, to say the least.

“Christ, you okay?”

“Sorry,” He wiped furiously ate his eyes and nearly winced when he felt snot trickled down his throat after a particularly powerful sniff.  _ Gross _ , “I didn’t mean to start cryin’. Fuckin’ alcohol. You just… just reminded me of my pa, is all. He used to say stuff like that to me before…” His following gulp sounded harsh and loud in the relative silence of the hall, and he downed the rest of his drink, “A lot of what you say and do reminds me of him, really.”

McCoy’s concern melted away with a sigh, being replaced with understanding. Good. Leonard didn’t he could handle pity. At least, not now.

“I’m sorry,” The apology was short and awkward. Understandable. 

“It’s okay, I just need to get over it already.” Even as he said it, Leonard didn’t find himself saying it with much conviction.

“How long?”

“What?”

“How long ago, did he die?”

The CMO scratched at his wrist, preferring to stare into his empty glass instead of the other’s honest, kindly blue eyes. It made it easier, “It was only a year ago. I was… on a planet. The  _ Enterprise _ was called in to make first contact with the inhabitants of Magdalene.”

McCoy took his glass and replaced it with his own, which Leonard drained in under a second. It wasn’t really hard to do, these glasses could hardly hold a shot, “Sounds like a beautiful planet.”

“It was… like a paradise. Anyway, we had a helluva time down there. They were very hospitable people. And,” He let out a shaky breath, “While I was enjoyin’ their food, laughin’ and makin’ small talk with these strangers, my pa passed away. Found out later, hours after the fact. The only person to hold his hand was the attendin’ nurse as he died because of a drunk driver, of all things.”

“Leonard… You didn’t know.”

“Yeah, well,” He snorted, “That’s the damn point, ain’t it? I should’ve known; should’ve been there.”

With a huff, gentle hands guided him away from the dinner.

“Wait, I gotta tell Jim I’m leavin’.”

“No, we both know that once he turns those puppy eyes of his on you, you’ll stay. ‘Sides, I’m a doctor and I’m decidin’ you need some rest. My decision overrides his.”

Leonard couldn’t actually find it in himself to argue with that. Not only was it true, but he was also dead tired. They weren’t given much time to R&R after yesterday. In fact, they were only given five hours.

“You know, there’s somethin’ about this universe that I’ve noticed, and I’m not so much likin’ it.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Ya’ll keep gettin’ the short end of the stick. You especially,” Leonard’s door opened with a hiss and already the idea of a warm  _ water _ shower sounded heavenly, “And don’t sass me on that. I know Jim lost his daddy and Spock - poor kid - lost both his mother  _ and _ his people on the same day, but for you, it keeps pilin’ up. You just can’t ever seem to catch a break,” Leonard wanted to point out that Jim died in the warp core, but they didn’t know that.  _ Yet _ . So, he just fell onto his bed with a deep exhale, awkwardly kicking the boots off his sore feet. He was pleasantly surprised when McCoy fell next to him, arms thrown out to the sides -  _ he must’ve put those disappointingly empty glasses down somewhere _ \- and staring up at the drab ceiling, “Talk to me, kid.”

“I ain’t a kid.”

“You are to me.”

And suddenly, he was talking. 

He talked about his baby girl. About how, when Jocelyn won the divorce, she had won sole custody of their little Jo and he wasn’t allowed visitation rights. During court, she had brought up all of his demons, and it certainly hadn’t helped that the judge was a relative of hers. So, he wasn’t allowed to see his daughter, and by the time he might’ve been able to fight for visitation, after he had gotten his commission on the  _ Enterprise _ , he had found out she didn’t even remember who he was. Joanna wasn’t really to blame. She was so young when they split.

In the end, it would’ve been cruel to force himself into her life.

He talked about the mirror universe. About how the bearded Spock haunted his dreams, and how he could feel echoes of him in the night. Those hot fingers like brands on his face...

“How did you do it?” Leonard asked, “Not let it bother you?”

“It still does.”

He talked about his fears, his dreams… About everything. Anything. And Nothing. He started from the beginning, all the way in Georgia where he was birthed during a difficult pregnancy and how he went through ‘Ole Miss. McCoy listened attentively, the both of them loosening their restrictive collars as time passed.

Leonard wasn’t sure who fell asleep first. It was probably him, in all honesty. And he never did get to take that shower.

Oh well, he could take it in the morning. He was too comfortable, and strangely enough, he felt lighter than he had been in years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blame the language on the fact that I was watching Alien and Alien 2 when I was writing this


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm _definitely_ rewriting this one, so this will probably be updated with the next update. I was a little pressed for time because I've been studying for an exam for the past week.

“Tell me about your daughter. What was her name, again?”

“Joanna.”

“How old is she now?”

“She’ll be turnin’ ten soon. Haven’t seen her since she was three.”

“Do you miss her?”

“You have no idea.”

* * *

 

“How seriously do you take your Hippocratic Oath?”

“As serious as the grave.”

“How many people have you killed or hurt, while on the  _ Enterprise _ ? Doesn’t matter the reason.”

“Dr. Okoye… I’m not… I’m not comfortable talkin’ about that. Not yet.”

“That’s fine, Leonard. How about you tell me about your day instead?”

* * *

 

“I had another night terror, last night. It woke me up.”

“Did James hear you again?”

“Yeah. He was there when I screamed myself awake. I feel bad. I’m disturbin’ his sleep every time I have ‘em.”

“It’s not something you can control, Leonard. And from what you’ve told me, James is a smart man. He cares. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t be there when you woke up.”

* * *

 

“I remember the names of everyone I could’ve saved.”

“Could you have saved them, really?”

“Yes. If I had been smarter, faster; just… better, they would still be here.”

“Maybe that’s true. But even if you were better in every way, how do we know if you could’ve saved them? Leonard, I’ve noticed you’ve taken blame for lives that weren’t your responsibility.”

“As Chief Medical Officer of this ship, every life is my responsibility!”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it. We can’t always be in complete control of what happens. I’ve read the reports. Leonard, most of what you feel is your fault, is not. You can’t change what happened. It’s time to move on.

“You survived. You can only go forward from here.”

 

Leonard knew why he never went to a therapist before. He was scared, and didn’t want to face the reality of his situation. But now he found himself regretting not taking the plunge sooner. He’d already met with Dr. Okoye a few times, each session lasting about an hour - when she had told him he had become a priority client he had tried to fight that - and already he felt a little better; a little lighter.

And apparently it had shown, because one night, during the ship’s monthly music night, Nyota had said something over her drink, “You know, you’re looking better. It’s almost like you’re glowing, and maybe looking a little younger?”

Of course, he had only stared dumbly at her, his mint julep halfway to his lips.

Mr. Spock, the older one, nodded along, “I must concur with Lieutenant Uhura. Ever since our arrival to this universe, I have never seen you look healthier.”

James didn’t say a word and instead chose to sip at his own drink, but his eyes glittered and he sent a knowing smile Leonard’s way as he took the compliments with a quiet ‘thank you’. Jim snickered at the sight of his friend blushing, but didn’t offer anything on the subject.

“What in God’s name is that monstrosity?” Leonard nearly spit out his drink when McCoy sat down, a glass of unknown contents in his grasp. There were these large stalks of… something sticking out of his drink. He held it up with a smirk.

“ _ This _ is a mint julep.”

“No way,” Leonard coughed out, bracing himself against the table as James clapped his back, “That’s mint? Why so much?”

“It’s how it’s supposed to be made.”

“Hell no it’s not. That’s disgustin’!”

“Are you tellin’ me that what you’re holdin’ is supposed to be a mint julep? Because that’s a sad amount of mint, let me tell you.”

“Havin’ so much overwhelms the alcohol!”

“Okay!” Christine cut in, popping out of nowhere and a little tipsy as as she tugged Leonard up by his arm, “Only boring people argue about alcohol. Time to go on the piano now!”

Barely a squawk had left his mouth before he was being dragged towards the sleek instrument in the middle of the room, stumbling over his feet, “How dare you call your superior boring to his face! At least wait until my back is turned, Chris.”

After the cheers had died down from the other crew members, the atmosphere was easily filled by Leonard’s lively tunes and Chapel’s slightly off-key singing. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt like this. There was nothing niggling at the back of his brain. Nothing about his work, his guilt… nothing. 

He felt free.

In fact, he felt so great that he didn’t even notice when the room had started emptying a couple of hours later, his fingers dancing over the keys like no time had actually passed. Christine had disappeared to parts unknown, but he was sure she hadn’t actually left yet.

“I didn’t know you could play the piano.”

Leonard slammed on the keys in surprise, a discordant screech causing James to flinch back at the sound, “My God, warn a guy before you go sneakin’ up on them, James! Nearly gave me a heart attack!”

“Apologies,” He laughed out, obviously not sorry in any way, “What song were you just playing? It sounds familiar.”

“You might’ve heard McCoy hum it to himself, if our shared histories are anythin’ to go by,” Leonard resumed playing, a soft look on his face as James joined him on the bench, “ _ Take Me Home, Country Roads _ . It’s an ancient song by a man named John Denver, I think. My ma used to sing it to me when I was younger.”

A comfortable silence settled over the two of them as the song played on, Leonard quietly singing along. While he was no nightingale, he let the words spill past his lips anyway. After not allowing himself the luxury to relax for so many years, it felt almost unnatural to vocalise the tune that always serenaded him in the back of his mind.

“Beautiful.”

Turning to give him a smile, any words he had hoped to say promptly died in his throat. James hadn't been paying close attention to the song he was playing, but was instead focussed on  _ him _ .

“I ain’t a good singer.”

“That’s no what I was talking about.”

He laughed nervously, “Okay, James.”

Shaking his head, he averted his attention to his playing, watching the skin on his fingers dimple where small white scars lie.

A warm hand halted his movements, “I'm being serious.”

“Sure, like you were when you first got here,” Honest confusion crossed James’ features before they smoothed out in realisation, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips.

“Would it be so hard to believe if I were to say that I wasn't joking when we first met? Because I wasn't.”

Leonard didn't know what to say to that, because yeah, it was a little hard to believe. James reached up to brush his thumb over his lips, a contemplative look in his eyes, as if sensing his thoughts.

“Can't you see your own beauty?”

“What’s there to see?” He thought about his crooked, too short nose, and lips that quirked unattractively whenever he spoke. He thought about the wrinkles lining his face, and eyes that never quite looked straight. Nevermind how he looked without clothes on.

No, there was nothing to see.

But he could believe there might’ve been  _ something  _ that James saw that he couldn’t. It was hard not to, when he was cradling his face between two broad hands and getting closer. The urge to just let the kiss happen was almost too strong. But he wasn’t known as one of the most responsible people on the  _ Enterprise _ for nothing.

“Stop,” He croaked out, placing a palm against the captain’s chest. He didn’t push back, and he didn’t have to, “We can’t.”

“Why not?” It wasn’t a complaint, but an honest question, “Do you not...?”

“It’s not that. It’s just… One day, probably soon, you’re goin’ to go home. I can’t do this to myself. I can’t have somethin’ so wonderful only to have it taken from me.”

The wounded, but understanding look he got was too much.

“I’m sorry,” Was all he managed before he ran away.

Again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Urgh so close


	7. Art for Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drawn by yours truly!

[My tumblr](phantombrushy.tumblr.com)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There'll still be a chapter update this Saturday!


	8. Chapter 7

Rumours on the _Enterprise_ travelled fast. During Beta a week after that night in the rec room, James had heard whispers about the away team that had beamed down, and about how the diplomatic mission had quickly turned sour. When the news had first reached his ears down in security, that someone died while down there, his heart had leapt into his throat.

Unable to do anything but wait out the shift, he had spent his time wringing his hands until they were an angry red, teeth worrying at his lip. Giotto had sent him several warning looks when it became clear he was being less than productive. Not that he could help it, with his mind focussed on a certain doctor instead of cybersecurity.

As soon as the chrono marked the end of Beta, James had booked it to his rooms. He had almost entered Leonard’s quarters, but the both of them had been keeping their distance after their almost kiss and he decided against it. Originally, James believed it to be for the best. Leonard was right, after all. He would probably be leaving soon, and trying to make it work would only hurt the both of them when the time came.

Now, it only served as a hindrance.

Feeling helpless, James had sat on the edge of his bed, and waited for the inevitable screams. Deep down he hoped that they were a thing of the past. The nights had been silent for almost two weeks.

But they came, hours later.

In a daze, he found himself holding Leonard’s thrashing form against his chest. Words were leaving his lips in a soft cadence, but he wasn’t even sure they made sense. It didn’t matter, really, when Leonard started wailing into his shoulder, gripping James’ red shirt like he was afraid he would disappear. The thought only made him hold him closer, burying his nose into Leonard’s hair and inhaling the scent of grief like he could take it away and into himself.

He'd never seen it get this bad.

Sobs faded to pained whimpers as James helped Leonard lay back down, though, he didn't withdraw. Especially when hazel eyes swimming with tears refused to look away, strong hands finding stability in his arms.

“They killed her,” Leonard whispered. His voice shook, and violent tremours wracked his frame, “She didn't even do anythin’ wrong…”

“Who's 'she’, Len?” Leonard's shivers increased in intensity, and absently James brought the blanket up to his shoulders, rubbing soothing circles on his shoulders, “Talk to me.”

“Chris,” His breath hitched, lips trembling as he fought to get his emotions under control, “She… God, she was so scared. She's good at hidin’ it but I saw it in her eyes.

They had us all on our knees,” He continued to gasp out, words stilted with tears. James just listened, “The leader was walkin’ around us, playin’ with his knife like it was some sort of _game_. I… I don't even know what happened, but the next thing I knew was that I was covered in blood that wasn't my own. She was lyin’ there, chokin’ on her blood and I couldn’t do a damn thing to save her.”

“I'm so sorry,” James managed.

“I owe her everythin',” A hand came up to the captain's face, and he was too shocked to move away from the sudden display of affection, “I tried, I really did. I treated her like family, and I doted on her like a little sister when she let me. If it wasn't for Chris, I wouldn't have survived for so long.”

“Don't say that.”

“But it's true. So many times I found my salvation at the bottom of a bottle, alone. Then she pushed herself into my life and did the best she could to get me back on my feet. I regret the times I pushed her away,” Grief turned to anger, for a brief second, “Maybe I paid my dues when I killed the bastard that took her away. Used the knife that murdered her and stuck it in his fuckin’ throat.”

Again, his face collapsed into anguish and James brushed his tears away.

“It was worth it, even if it means more blood on my hands. It was worth it because he didn't _deserve_ to live after what he did,” Tears renewed and he furiously shook his head, “Doesn't change the fact she's gone, though. After I got all cleaned up, washed all the blood from my body like a bad dream, I kept thinkin’ she'd turn the corner and be there.

“But she didn't. And now I just want to forget it all. Forget all the death and the pain and the sufferin’,” Leonard pushed himself up, the blanket pooling around his naked hips as James pointedly looked away, “Help me forget.”

Alarms went off in his head, “Wait, Len, no. I’m not going to take-,” The rest of his protests were cut off when chapped lips met his own in a tender kiss, the kind so full of emotion that it took his breath away. But it tasted bittersweet with tears and sorrow.

“I want this,” Leonard breathed against his lips, eyes dark with desire, “Please.”

“But you said… That night…”

“I know what I said, and I was wrong,” Fingers pressed against his lips when James went to speak, “I’ve been thinkin’ about it. And I wasn’t lyin’ when I said it’d hurt when you leave. But it’d hurt even more to know I never took the opportunity to love you in the first place. Even if it’s only for a few days.”

It was no secret that time was coming soon. Scotty had made admirable progress with the transporter in the last few days.

Then suddenly, a wild idea struck James.

“Come with me.”

* * *

 “Come with me,” Strong arms pulled Leonard into a tight embrace. James was only a few inches shorter than him, but he felt safe. Sheltered. Protected, “You can work in our sickbay. Everything you do here, you can do with us.”

The temptation to say ‘yes, fuck yes, please let’s leave now’ was so strong he had to physically ground himself to not get lost in it. He heard about the old Spock from another universe, so there was no reason for him to believe he couldn’t co-exist with his counterpart somewhere else. Reality certainly wouldn’t collapse if he did.

But Jim. _His_ Jim.

With a rotting feeling in his gut, he recalled what happened a couple of years ago with Khan. If he hadn’t been there, would someone else have found what he discovered? Would they have known to test the superhuman’s platelets on that dead tribble? Would they have even thought about any of it in the first place?

Leonard didn’t notice he was breathing heavily until James pressed a kiss on his shoulder, “Breathe, Len. Breathe.”

“I-I can’t go with you,” He managed to say, after swallowing around the lump in his throat, “The people here need me. Jim would be dead without me.”

“I’ll stay here with you, then. I won’t lie, I’m a damn good captain where I am, but they don’t _need_ me,” James said it without hesitation, and with such conviction, that Leonard turned around sharply, surprise evident on his face, “And I’m not letting you go. I want to be with _you._ ”

“You really mean that,” Even though it posed more as a statement rather than a question, James nodded, moving to cup the doctor’s face with his calloused hands.

“Yes. I do.”

Leonard searched his eyes for any sort of lie, but found none, “Then I don’t want to forget. I want to _live._ ”

They came together in a mess of lips and teeth, slow and clumsy. James’ hands burned hot like brands across his skin, stroking up his back and exploring each scar along his body. For once, he didn’t feel ashamed for the stories written on his skin, not with how they were caressed with reverence. James’ body wasn’t so visibly scarred, but Leonard knew they were there, so he kissed them away as he shed the captain’s clothes.

James was the one to lower him back onto the bed, kicking his pants off and slotting himself between Leonard’s open thighs as Leonard hooked his ankles together, pulling him closer. The increased contact between skin had them both gasping and moaning breathlessly.

They came undone together, James pressed flush against narrow hips as he spilled into Leonard, panting and slick with sweat and saliva. Already, exhaustion crept up on them as they lay together, legs wrapped around each other and Leonard’s ear pressed against James’ broad chest.

James had a strong heartbeat. He counted each thump and each breath, sighing in contentment when the captain started running his fingers through his sweaty hair.

“You're really goin’ to stay here? Leave your home behind?”

“Without a doubt,” Leonard could feel the rumble of his words against his cheek, “Besides, _you're_ home for me. Yes, I have the _Enterprise_ and my crew back in the other universe. But I would give everything I had to be with you, and if it means staying here, I'll gladly do it.”

“I can't ask you to do that.”

“You don't have to. Bones and Spock certainly won't like it, but they wouldn't make me leave. And if they tried? Then they weren't really my friends, and it'd be even more of a reason to stay here,” He sighed, “I just look forward to the day when you're free of worry.”

Fighting back tears, because damn it he's already cried tonight, he pressed closer to James wordlessly. He could already feel his eyes starting to shut of their own accord, his breathing finally evening out as sleep approached.

Listening to Leonard's deep breaths and finally pulling the blanket over the both of them, Kirk followed in slumber, turning just enough to curl around the warm body next to him.

* * *

 Jim clenched his fists tightly enough for his nails to cut into the palm of his fist on the white wall before him, electric blue eyes glowering at nothing through the steam of his shower.

The _nerve._

He had come down to Bones’ quarters merely to visit with his friend. While he had expected his counterpart to be there - when was that man not around _his_ doctor? - he certainly hadn't expected to walk in on them _fucking_. Everything he had witnessed between them over the last couple of months never lead him to believe they would take their strange relationship to such an intimate level. So, seeing them going at it like that felt like a personal betrayal to him.

What was so special about _this_ Kirk that had Bones sharing his bed with him? They were practically the same person, so what was different? Besides, it just wasn't right! Bones was from _this_ universe and from _this_ Enterprise. James was from somewhere else, and didn't belong here. Didn't belong with him.

Shutting if the shower before he could use up his water rations, Jim refused to entertain the possibility that he was jealous. No, he was concerned, not jealous.

It made him… almost sick to see the look in their eyes as they moved together. James looked at Bones like he was the one and only god in the universe. And Bones…

Bones looked at James with so much love it _hurt_.

He hadn't known until now that he longed for something more with Bones. Distantly, he recognised the fact that he might just be possessive of the few friends he had. Maybe he was in love with the idea of being with Bones more than the fact that it was Bones, but that didn't stop the white-hot anger that rushed through him.

There was no way this could end well, for anyone involved. And there was no way in hell he would be subjected to watching them being sickly sweet with each other every day until Bones was inevitably hurt.

Jim finally stepped out of the shower to pull a robe around himself. Not even bothering to dress, the first thing he did upon exiting his bathroom was knock on the door joining the Captain's and First Officer's quarters together.

It took a minute for Spock to open it, and a cursory glance inside showed that the Vulcan had just been meditating. On any other given day, he would have felt guilty and apologised.

Right now, though, he couldn't bring himself to care.

“How close are we to finding a way to send them back?” While harsher than he had intended, if Spock’s raised eyebrow was any indication, he didn't have the patience to beat around the bush.

“At the current rate we are currently progressing, and given that our theory that we are pursuing is the correct solution, it should take us another month to send our counterparts back to their universe.”

“Is there any way we can speed that up?”

“Perhaps if we had other members of the crew working on this as well. I estimate three more individuals dedicated to finding a solution will increase progress by fifty-two-point-six percent.”

“Consider it done. I want those men off my ship,” As Jim turned to walk back into his own quarters, Spock called after him.

“Jim, if I may. What has transpired to make you so eager for their departure?”

“I'm afraid I can't tell you that, Mr. Spock,” Even though his back was still to him, Jim could feel his dark gaze boring into his back. After a beat or two of silence, Spock conceded.

“Very well. Good night, Captain.”

And with that, the door hissed shut.”

* * *

 

I heard about what happened… Leonard…”

“She is… was my best friend. Like a sister.”

“I can't imagine what that was like for you. I understand if you're not ready to talk about it, but… It might be better if you did.”

A heavy sigh.

“No. I… think that I should try. For her sake. 'Sides, she woulda wanted that.”

* * *

 

His recent session with Dr. Okoye felt like a load had been taken off his shoulders. Yeah, it's been a week since they had beamed down to that mess of a planet. Sure, he wasn't anywhere close to accepting Chris’ death, and he was going to be expecting to see her round the corner for a while yet. But the helplessness and grief that he had felt that night, that had led to a rash decision he couldn't find in himself to regret, wasn't suffocating anymore.

It was almost… Bearable.

Some twisted part of him didn't want it to be; it didn't seem fair. But another part of him, the side that dreamed, felt relieved.

He had a feeling it wasn't going to last.

Hesitantly, he speared a tomato on his fork before chewing on it thoughtfully. How exactly was he going to broach the topic of James staying, with Jim? The last few days his friend had looked less than pleased with something. With what? He couldn't say.

There was that saying, bite the bullet, for a reason. And maybe perhaps the fact he would be asking over dinner would help his request be received more favourably.

“Hey, Jim?” Leonard tried, eyeing his captain over his food. Jim was attacking his food with vigour, as if it had personally offended him somehow. Both Spock and Nyota halted their conversation to listen, “Can I ask you somethin’?”

All he received was a grunt in response. Unusual, but he wasn't going to let it deter him.

“James-.”

“No. He’s not staying.”

It was said with such vehemence and anger that Leonard couldn’t help the flinch, “How do you even know what I’m askin’ you?” He felt the corners of his lips turn down into a nasty scowl, probably communicating both his displeasure at being interrupted the tone Jim had taken with him.

“I heard you two. Last night.”

Disgust and shame didn’t even begin to describe what he was feeling, “You… were you watching us?” Whatever look dawned upon Spock’s impassive features had the poor man flushing green, something Leonard didn’t give himself time to decipher when Jim’s next scathing words left his tongue.

“Like I had a choice. I walked in on you two going at it like tribbles!”

“Captain, tribbles do not have sex.”

“Shut up, Spock!” Leonard hissed, “What is goin’ _on_ with you? Why-?”

“Let me see,” Jim raised his fingers, ticking them off one by one with face so red that, at any other given moment, Leonard would have been fussing over him, “He doesn’t belong here, he’s going to inevitably hurt you, he’s not good enough for you… Need I go on?”

“But, Jim. You don’t understand him, I _need_ him.”

“No, you don’t. You’ve been doing fine until they showed up, so I suggest you just get used to things being the way they used to be,” Leonard had to remind himself that Jim didn’t know the extent of everything. He didn’t know because he wouldn’t tell him, and he’d been lying for years. Jim didn’t that he’d been _dying_ before James.

Yet, still, he couldn’t tell him the truth.

“Then I’ll just go over your head and ask the admiralty about this.”

“The admiralty can ask me to do a lot of things, but they can’t order me to take on a new crew member I deem unfit for this ship. If they let him stay - and that is a major ‘if’ because I highly doubt it - I’m won’t let him on the _Enterprise_.”

All he managed was a choked ‘why?’. Nyota was going alarmingly stiff with anger, though, directed at who, it wasn’t clear. Jim went to continue but Leonard decided he had enough. For years he had known Jim, so he knew better than anyone what the jumping muscle in his jaw meant.

Stubborn. Determined. _Not going to change his goddamn mind._

“You know what? I don’t want to know it. I respect your decision, no matter how much I disagree with it. I’m goin’ to ask Nogura, and if they let him stay, I’m givin’ up my commission,” That seemed to get through the haze of anger that had been surrounding Jim these last few days, who stood with a stutter, “Wha- Bones!”

Leonard whirled on him and drew the attention of the few other crew members in the mess, “Don’t _Bones_ me! It’s my goddamn choice if I stay here or not. Just like it’s yours to not let him stay!”

“There’s no way you can love him that much!”

“And that, Jim, is where you couldn’t be more wrong,” Leonard felt the familiar prick of tears at his eyes as he stormed out, not even giving a chance for his friend to further argue or explain. And the weight of his words didn’t hit until he reached his quarters. _Fuck_. Did he really just yell at Jim? In the mess? In front of the crew?

Feeling so out of his depth, the first thing he did - after changing into some comfortable clothing - was write up a letter to Nogura. The admiral was a reasonable man, who seemed to like Leonard’s brash behaviour enough to find it amusing.

This… this was important, and a big step to take.

_“I just want you to be happy, Leo.”_

The words appear on the screen in a haze of barely repressed tears. The chrono by his bed ticked rhythmically, and he almost dozed off to the sound until a knock came at his door, barely half an hour later, “Leo?” James’ muffled voice was soothing, but also his breaking point. He sounded concerned, “Are you okay?”

“Come in,” He managed to croak out, rubbing furiously at his eyes, “I’m a bit of a mess.”

“Have you been crying? What happened?” Was the soft-spoken question. Warm hands guided him to the bed, where he was wrapped up tight in his quilt. Leonard let him. He was warm in his Academy sweatshirt, and already he could feel himself getting just a tad overheated. But the simple action touched him so much that he didn’t bother wriggling out of the tight hug he was wrapped in.

“I just had too high of expectations is all,” Leonard mumbled, pursing his lips before showing James the PADD he hadn’t released, “I’m sending a letter to Nogura requesting you be allowed to retain your spot in Starfleet. You think it’s good?” Leonard wasn’t sure if he had finished it, but James hummed anyway, give it a quick skim.

“Yes, you write very well. But, Len, why are you doing this? I appreciate it, I really do. I just don’t understand.”

“I know you’re passionate about what you do, and I figured that if I was able to get you to retain your position within Starfleet, you could keep doin’ it. And then… Then I could send in my resignation and take up a grounded position somewhere, maybe even on your ship if my some miracle they give you your own command,” He was rambling, he knew it. But that didn’t change the fact that James’ attention was fully on him now.

“You can’t just give up your commission, you have such a good position on the best ship in the ‘Fleet!”

“But you’re willin’ to give up near everythin’ for me, it’s fair that I can do the same if I so choose. And since Jim won’t let you stay on this ship in any capacity should you stay, I’ll leave, too. Don't think I could stay here knowin’ I could be with you instead. Or, at least, waitin’ for you.”

A soft kiss was pressed on his lips and he released a shuddering sigh. James always seemed to know what he needed.

“What do you mean Jim won't let me stay?” Was breathed against his lips.

“It’s exactly how it sounds. I approached him about it today, durin’ dinner, and he didn't take too kindly to the idea. Found out he walked in on us last night and everythin'.”

He stubbornly wiped his tears away, and he could imagine Chris now.

 _“_ Jimmy _seems to miss a lot of what’s going on with you. Leo, you take that happiness and you run. Fast and far away. Captain or friend be damned. Be_ happy. _”_

“Do you know why he's so adamant about me being gone?”

“I have an inklin’... But I’m probably wrong.”

“Care to share?”

Suddenly tired, he made himself comfortable on the bed, James kicking off his boots only to join him. Dare he say it… he was cuddling.

“I think he might hold feelin’s for me. Or, maybe he’s just holdin’ feelin’s for the _idea_ of me. I’ve been his friend for so long, back since when he had nothin’. No friends; no real family. I think I mighta been the first meaningful relationship in his life, and he might be afraid to let that go. He might even think I could possibly love him in a way he wants to be loved, too.”

“And do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Do you feel that way about him?”

Leonard hesitated, just long enough for uncertainty to cross James’ features and to send him hastily backtracking, “No! No. I mighta, once. Before Khan. Haven't felt anythin’ for him like that since.”

Silence.

“I think he’s afraid I’ll leave him. Like everyone else has in his life,” A scoff, “Little does he know that he’s pushin’ me away now.”

Jame’ hand rubbed soothing circles along his back, and the motion had Leonard feeling drowsy, “I can see where he's coming from. I'm sure if I was in his position I'd do the same.”

“I guess I can, too,” He yawned, “If it were to come down to it, I'd do what I could to keep you with me, even if you didn't love me the way I love you.”

“Good thing I do love you,” After placing a kiss on Leonard's forehead, “Things will work out. You'll see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I killed Chapel I'm _really_ sorry
> 
> Also, don't worry about Jim, he's just having a little fit he'll get over it


	9. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies to those of you who've subscribed and you got an e-mail saying I uploaded three chapters! I did not, that was a small glitch that happened when I tried uploading when ao3 was having some redirect issues

James would be lying if he said he wasn't scared out of his mind. The situation down on Deaphus had escalated since the ship's first attempt at negotiations, and there had been increasing attacks on the city centres as martial law quickly became the new norm.

It was a mess.

And they had asked for medical aid.

So, of course, that had meant Leonard was leading the team down in Kevlar. White Kevlar. There wasn't much James could do but adjust the straps on Leonard's vest as the doctor holstered a small pulse pistol at his hip. Leonard didn't like carrying it, but it offered a small amount of protection in areas of high conflict, “Be careful down there,” James muttered, a frown pulling at his lips.

“Don’t _I_ normally say that?” That was a testament to how nervous Leonard felt, if he resorted to joking.

“I mean it. Your uniforms are white, and it makes you a target on the field. I wish I could beam down with you.”

“We’re not beamin’ down in the middle of a fight, and you know that havin’ anyone else down with us could make things worse,” James pursed his lips after muttering a ‘going down in tactical gear won’t?’, mildly irritated at Leonard's flippancy. A sigh and a gloved hand was halting his own. Leonard was looking at him with as much reassurance as he could muster, “It’s just their hospital, and these are just a precaution. These people need my help. ‘Sides, I’ll be back before you know it.”

James pressed his forehead against the doctor's with a quiet, “You better.”

“Promise.”

Scotty’s surprised shout of ‘aye right!’ interrupted their gentle kiss, something that had Leonard chuckling under his breath. Both McCoy and Mr. Spock were looking a tad shocked, but not that either of the duo cared.

“Ready tae beam down, lads?”

Reluctantly, James let go when Leonard stepped back, “Keep my Sickbay in workin’ order, both of you,” The doctor nodded at both M’Benga, who was still getting over his flu, and McCoy, before placing the white helmet over his head. Jim, who had remained silent up until this point, cleared his throat. Any emotion on Leonard’s face was chased away by a cold impassiveness. James had noticed Jim standing on the edge of the transporter room, looking contrite, but the doctor hadn’t even spared him a glance upon entering.

“Yes, captain?”

The professional address and tone had Jim flinching, but not without a muttered ‘I deserved that’. With a shake, Jim pulled himself together and held his chin high, “Good luck, Bones. I want to talk to you about adding a certain captain to the roster when you get back.”

Of all the things he could have said, James didn’t expect that. Leonard took it in stride, a wide smile crossing his face, “Hearin’ that loud and clear, Jim.” The mock salute and the smothered smiles of the other two nurses on the pad were the last they saw of the groups before they disappeared in a glow of particles.

After a beat of silence, James spoke, “What made you change your mind?” Granted, it had been a couple of weeks since the fallout between Jim and Leonard, but if Jim was anything like himself, the change in heart must’ve been encouraged by someone else.

And judging by the fond looks exchanged between captain and first officer, Spock was someone who could be trusted across all universes.

* * *

  _Jim paced back and forth, angry and grumbling to himself. After Leonard had stormed out of the mess with his intent to resign, Jim had immediately retreated to his quarters. He didn’t look up as Spock let himself in, but managed to throw an irritated remark his way, “It’s rude to not knock, Spock.”_

_“Jim,” His name made the captain freeze, before turning to face his first officer. Spock had a look of irritation on his features, and he realised it was directed at him, “Do you not claim to be Leonard’s friend?”_

_“Of course I am!”_

_“And to my understanding, friends - especially in Earth culture - support each other. What I witnessed minutes ago showed nothing of the sort.”_

_“Are you telling me you_ want _Bones to leave us?”And for a reason he could almost fathom, Jim felt panic grip him._

_“It is not a matter of want, Jim. It is a matter of respect. I do not want him to leave, but I respect Leonard’s decision to do so, especially when you have given him no other choice.”_

_“No other choice? Last I checked he has options, or have you forgotten how to count?” The jab left his lips without warning, but Spock didn’t flinch._

_“Where it concerns his happiness, he truly has one choice. He is happy with James. I am content in letting this man stay, if he makes one I consider a friend happier than he has ever been in the time I have known him. If Leonard needs to leave to be with him, in_ any _capacity, then I will support and help in any way I can.”_

 _Panic quickly morphed into anger and Jim was suddenly in Spock's space, “What’re you saying? That you’d_ send him away?! _To another universe where we'll never see him again?!”_

_“If he asked it of me.”_

_“Bones belongs_ here _. With us! He doesn’t know what he wants!”_

_“You forget, Leonard is his own person. He knows himself better than anyone in existence, and for you to presume that you would know better than he is not only concerning, but uncharacteristic of you.”_

_“You don’t know anything, Spock!” Suddenly, the urge to just pull those perfect bangs off his head hit Jim, particularly when the Vulcan raised a slanted brow at his retort._

_“I know enough to see that you are not being honest with anyone, least of all yourself. Why does it irk you so, that Leonard would choose to be with the one he loves?” It was like the tables had turned from the disaster with Nero. Where Jim had been trying to get a rise from Spock all those years ago, now it was Spock trying to get a rise out of Jim._

_“Because_ I _love him! He belongs with_ me! _Not some cheap knock-off!”_

_“Still, you lie to yourself.”_

_That seemed to make Jim deflate, and he sagged against his wall, “I'm in love with the idea of him. You're right. But… what would you suggest I do, Spock? What’s the logical solution?”_

_“Let him go, or let them both stay._ ”

* * *

Jim didn't look away from Spock as he spoke, “A certain Vulcan gave me a good kick in the rear. Made me see things clearly.”

James couldn't help the laugh that escaped, clapping his counterpart on the shoulder, “What would we do without our Spocks?”

“Perish and burn, most likely,” Mr. Spock said flatly, and McCoy had to step back to stare at him incredulously while M’Benga and Scotty snickered amongst themselves.

* * *

It took only an hour for everything to go wrong.

The bridge crew, with the exception of Scotty, were enjoying their lunch break in the mess. Whatever tension had existed before was now mostly gone, if not for the severe glances McCoy gave James every now and then. He felt bad, not discussing his decision to stay in this universe, but he figured it'd happen later today. James was confident they'd support his decision.

“Bridge to Captain Kirk,” Jim jumped, holding up a hand to halt Chekov’s retelling of a particularly hilarious mission as he pulled out his communicator.

“Go ahead.”

“We just lost all incoming data from the medical team's chips.”

The announcement had everyone falling silent.

“Do you still have their locations?”

“Yes, sir. It's all we're able to get at the moment,” The rest of the crew followed when he stood, swiftly heading for the turbolift.

“Alright, standby. Mr. Scott?”

“Aye?”

“Beam up the team, now.”

“Righ’ away, cap’n.”

They all squeezed into the turbolift, shoulder to shoulder. But none of them minded as they waited with baited breath.

“Sir…” James could feel the blood leave his face, and if it weren't for Mr. Spock’s gentle hand on his arm he probably would've collapsed to his knees, “The two nurses… they’re dead. Torn and mangled… ‘Tis terrible…”

Nyota’s gasp of horror and Sulu’s curse in Japanese was their only audible reactions, “And Bones?”

Everyone clenched their fists in anticipation, “I dinnae.”

“What do you mean ‘you don’t know’?” McCoy's hysterical voice nearly caused James to jump out of his skin. _My god can't this lift go any faster?_

“He’s nae here, is what I’m sayin'! ‘Tis just his locator chip! Someone must’ve taken it out!”

Mwangi, the stand-in for Chekov during their lunch break, rose immediately upon their entrance, “Captain! The ambassador contacted us. The terrorists took Doctor McCoy!”

Everyone returned to their respected stations as Jim reclaimed the chair, “Put him up!”

“Captain Kirk!” The ambassador looked a little banged up and, behind him, they can see people performing first aid in the back. It’s the hospital, “We weren’t expecting them, I swear. They came out of nowhere and attacked the hospital; our injured!”

"Where is my CMO, Ambassador Tyril?”

“We can’t say for sure, but we suspect he’s been taken to their base.”

“I want the coordinates. Now. First, they killed my best nurse, them they kill two more, and now they have my CMO. I'll be damned if they take him from us, too.”

“Of course, but, captain… Everyone that’s entered, has never come out alive.”

Before Jim could even respond, the transmission was overridden by a grainy one. An alien woman, wearing the signature red bandana they'd come to associate with the planet's terrorists, appeared on screen, “Captain Kirk, I believe this is the first we’ve met. My name is Prela.”

She didn't spare a single glance to anyone else on the bridge.

“It’s not a pleasure, Prela.”

“It’s not meant to be. I believe we have something of yours.”

It took everything for James to keep his mouth, choosing simply to inhale sharply as a struggling Leonard is brought on screen. He was bleeding sluggishly from both a gash on his forehead and a deep wound in his shoulder, likely where they had gouged out the locator chip. The white uniform, once pristine, was now stained with dirt and blood, and his skin glistened with sweat. Curses are flying from his lips, muffled behind the fabric gag in his mouth, damp with saliva and tied so tightly it chafed against his skin. There were tear tracks on his face, eyes wet from fear, pain, frustration, or all three wasn't clear.

“Let him go.”

Prela grabbed Leonard’s chin, who yelled at the forceful action and winced when her hand tightened on his jaw, “Hm, I think not.”

“What do you want with him? Why kill the others and keep him alive?” Jim's hands were clenched into fists, his knuckles bleeding white.

“The others were merely in the way. And we need him alive for our purpose.”

“Mind sharing with the rest of the class?”

She laughed harshly, “You remind me of my mate. He was the leader of our organisation, and had created a resistance against the Federation _military_ who never provided aid for our backwater colony until we were deemed _useful._ For years, he built this little empire, until a piece of Starfleet scum ran a blade through his neck,” At that she pulled away only to backhand Leonard, who grunted from the pain and started to bleed from his nose.

“Whatever you want, I’m sure we can give it to you.”

“And what I want I can easily do myself,” She hissed, “Tomorrow, when the sun is highest in the sky, your doctor will be made an example for the people of this colony. No one resists us without paying a price… and no one gets away with taking my mate from me.”

She grabbed a long piece of wood from somewhere off screen, one James distantly likens to an ancient cattle prod. Leonard tried to scoot away with widening eyes, but the tight grip on his arms prevented him from moving. Prela jammed the end into his abdomen and he screamed behind his gag, writhing in pain.

“Stop!” That might've been Sulu, but it was hard to tell over the sound of Leonard's cries and the blood rushing past James’ ears. Thankfully, it’s over quickly, and Leonard is left panting and gasping in the henchmen’s grasps, eyes rolling around unfocussed.

“Death is too swift however, so I’m going to have my fun with him in the meantime,” She stalked closer to the camera, a crazed look in her eyes, “Keep an eye on that clock, Captain. Tik tok, don’t want to miss his head on the block.”

The screen went dark.

“Captain…” Nyota wavered, breaking the silence, “I’ve just received the coordinates.”

Jim took a deep, steadying breath before he stood, “We’re putting together a team. _Now._ ”


	10. Chapter 9

During his career in Starfleet, James had gone undercover only a small handful of times. He even still had the faintest of scars along his ears and just above his brows from his brief venture as a Romulan officer.  _ Scars Leonard had gently run his fingertips over, laughing at the mental picture. _

Now, he was dressed in heavy almost-rags, the material muted in colour, just like the forest that surrounded the terrorist base.

“I’m trusting you, James,” Jim gripped his arms, “I can’t go with you; they’ve seen my face. But if you love him as much as you say, you’ll bring him back to us. You get in; you get out. Got it?”

“You have my word,” James tucked his phaser under his long overcoat, hiding it from sight, “He's returning to us.”

With a sharp nod, Jim stepped back, “Energise.”

The room faded away to a foggy forest, and almost immediately they trudged forward. Mr. Spock pulled the knit hat lower over his ears, hiding the pointed ends from view, “So…” McCoy muttered, voiced muffled behind the scarf around his lips, “You and Leo, huh?”

“Now's not the time.”

“No, I get that. I just need to know,” He continued, hand subconsciously patting the medical kit under the his coat, “You’re staying? To be with him?”

“...Yes.”

Just ahead, James could make out the treeline. They were getting close, “A logical decision,” Mr. Spock muttered.

“Damn right it is,” McCoy agreed, and James found himself fighting to keep a smile from growing on his lips.

The building in front of them was surprisingly small, much smaller than expected, but James didn't doubt that it extended further underground. Intelligence suggested that the terrorist cell was larger than originally anticipated.

Keeping their heads down, they nodded to the guards before entering. Thankfully, they didn’t question their presence, even when McCoy almost faltered at the sight of the rifles they held. They reminded James of Old Earth large automatics, and he distantly wondered how the hell they got their hands on such destructive but old tech. Technology in the capitol was much more efficient and energy based. 

The interior was almost barren, save for the dilapidated door at the far end of the room. Rusted hinges squealed in protest as James nudged it open, revealing a dusty stairwell that descended further into the ground. His hunch was right.

Almost nobody was present as they wandered down the halls, deceptively relaxed and searching for a computer, or anything that could give them the info they needed, namely Leonard's location. Hopefully these people made a point to record everything.

Before they could get the chance to do so, Prela appeared around a corner, flanked by two guards. McCoy let out a soft curse but kept his head down. Under the dim, flickering lights, James could see red blood staining her light purple skin, and it almost sent him into a rage. Unless they had other human prisoners here, he was willing to bet that was Leonard's blood.

She laughed, and laughed, and laughed. So mirthful she was, she didn't even spare the trio a glance.

“That sadistic little witch,” McCoy grumbled, and James only hummed in response.

A peek around the corner she came from showed only a narrow hallway, and a single door.

“Think he's in there?”

“The… blood on her was fresh. It is likely she had just finished…” Mr. Spock couldn't find it in himself to finish that sentence, and it was all the prompting McCoy needed.

“Then what are we waiting for?”

It swung inward silently, after a minute or two of James picking at the old lock on the door. Almost immediately, the scent of blood and restrained crying reached their ears. The lights of the hallway, while low, were bright enough for them to see Leonard curled up in the corner of the barren room, his skin and clothing soaked with water and covered in both dirt and blood. 

Leonard flinched when they entered into the room, their steps echoing on the concrete floor, though his crying stopped as he refused to look at them. Spock shook his head and stepped back, choosing instead to keep watch by the door instead of facing what was in store, “What,” He croaked out, tone bitter, “Come to force my head under the water some more? Or stick me with that prod of yours?” 

Suddenly, he released a dry sob, “Please, haven't you had enough?”

“Len,” James managed and Leonard's head snapped up before turning, hazel eyes wide.

“James!” He rasped, struggling to stand but the sudden movement had him yelping in pain, clutching at his ribs.

“Hold on there,” McCoy rushed over with James, gently helping him up and scanning him with his tricorder. The white Kevlar was open and the straps were mangled beyond repair, revealing a myriad of electrical burns and bruises. James couldn't help but stare. 

“It's okay, James,” Leonard gasped out. 

James opened his mouth to speak but McCoy cut him off, voice gruff with an underlying tone of panic, “The hell it is. You've punctured your lung and I don't have what I need to help you on hand,” He raised his eyes to look at James, “We need to get him out,  _ now. _ ”

With a quick nod, James threw his overcoat over Leonard's shivering form, “Let’s go, then.”

Limping through the hallways, they snuck away as quietly as they could. They were able to make it past the guards with James’ simple explanation of 'brawl gone wrong’, but Leonard's breathing was getting shorter and heavier with each step, “I killed her husband,” Leonard whispered, more to James than the other two, “If I had known-.”

“Don't do this to yourself,” James caught him as he stumbled, before urging him along, past the treeline. This was too easy, “He killed Christine, Len. He probably would've killed someone else, too, if you haven't stopped him.”

“But Nurses Anderson and Wang would still be-.”

“They were in the wrong place at the wrong time, kid,” McCoy cut in, adjusting his grip on Leonard's arm, “Had nothin’ to do with you. Now stop talkin’, we're almost th-.”

“Get down!” Gunshots -  _ they're using bullets! _ \- struck the trees around them, wood splintering and showering them in its debris as a guard from up ahead fired. Mr. Spock was able to quickly subdue them with a stunner, but the damage was already done.

Already, they could hear distant shouts from the base.

“We need to hurry.”

McCoy’s curse had James snapping his attention to him, and became aware of Leonard leaning on him more heavily than before. And there was blood. It seeped through his uniform and was bubbling with blood.  _ Sucking chest wound _ .

“No!” Unable to hold up his own weight, Leonard's legs collapsed under him and James struggled to keep him upright, “Can we beam up from here?”

“Negative,” Spock crouched when a random, single shot rang through the air. McCoy pressed his scarf to the wound, one of James’ hand replacing his to put pressure on it. Already, his skin was slick with blood, “We are too close to the tree line. The chance of another encounter increases the longer we stay here. However, we are not far.”

“Come on, Leo,” McCoy grunted, once again taking on some of the weight. Leonard, whose eyes were becoming glassier with each passing second, gasped in pain, “I know, I know it hurts but we're almost there. Just a little longer.”

Together they were able to stumble to the small clearing they originally beamed down to, Mr. Spock taking up the rear and on alert. Leonard was coughing violently, blood splattering his blue lips as more of the liquid filled his lungs.

“Four to beam up,  _ Enterprise _ .”

“Hold on for just a few more seconds, sir!” Chekov’s voice crackled over the speaker, “Zey have put up some sort of blocker on your signal, but I'm working around zat.”

Leonard fell to the ground, gasping around air that wasn't enough and the veins in his neck bulged. 

“Dammit, hold on, Len,” James muttered, failing to keep his fear at bay. Hazel eyes, similar to his own, stared up at him, terror swirling in their depths. 

“J...James…”

“He’s goin’ into hypovolemic shock Jim, he needs Sickbay now. Where's that beam out, Spock?”

“Any second now.” 

A familiar cry of rage rang in the forest just as both of Leonard’s hands gripped James’ tightly, and he turned to see Prela in the distance. When lights finally surrounded the small group, he turned back to the man in his arms and said, “You're going to be okay, Len. I'm not leaving you. I'll be right here.”

_ He's going to be okay, he's going to be fine. We'll be on board in a couple of seconds, they'll heal him, and we can go on. He'll be safe. _

But when the lights disappear, what little relief that had flooded his being disappeared and left him cold. 

He was in a familiar transporter room. But not the one he had come to know in the past couple of months. His arms felt light; weightless, and James looked down to find his blood-soaked arms free of Leonard. 

_ No. No. No no no no no. _

Shakily, he got to his feet, McCoy and Spock with him. He can see  _ his _ Scotty behind the controls, who was smiling at the sight of his captain.

_ This can't be... _

“Where is he?” James didn't recognise his own voice, and the smile turned quizzical.

“Sorry, sir?” 

“Jim…” McCoy said cautiously, placing a hand on his arm but he shrugged it off violently.

“Where. Is. He?” Fingers curled into fists, and he was almost unaware of the hard object in his hand. Scared of what he might see, he looked down to find a silver ring, covered in blood.

_ A familiar cry of rage rang in the forest just as both of Leonard’s hands gripped James’ tightly... _

He can't help but stare at it as Scotty spoke, “There's no one else cap’n. I only beamed you three on board. Are you alrigh’, sir?”

Luckily, Spock anticipated what would happen next and rushed to restrain James just as he snapped, “Send me back! Send me back, he needs us! I promised him I wouldn't leave, please! I need to make sure he's gonna be alright send me  _ back _ !”

Scotty, for as unflappable as the man could be sometimes, stumbled away until he hit the back wall. James was still screaming at his Chief Engineering Officer when McCoy took the Scotsman by the arms, “Is there any way you can send him back?” 

Shaking himself out of his stupor, he was able to send an incredulous look the doctor's way, “Why on Earth would ye-?”

“Just answer the question, Scotty!” 

“Er, no, doctor. We deliberately pulled you across realities, and we were lucky all of the waves were in alignment. It was our only shot.”

Like a switch, James deflated, going limp in Spock's arms and sobbing without abandon, “We left him there. I left him there. He was dying oh god, he was dying. I promised, I promised…” 

Cries faded when McCoy pressed a hypo against his thigh, drugging him into sleeping. The ring slipped from James’ slack grasp, and he was quick to pocket the captain's most important -  _ and only _ \- memento from the other universe.

And dammit, McCoy himself was on the verge of tears.

“He's not gonna recover from this, is he, Spock?” 

The Vulcan mulled over his words, his lips tightening just a fraction before he spoke, pulling his captain into his arms, “You underestimate our captain's strength. But, we can be sure that he will not be the same.”

“Recover from what, doctor?” Scotty’s voice trembled.

“Loss. He had a taste of paradise, and now it's gone.” The following weeks passed by in a blur.

* * *

 

It took James a while for him to return to duty. A month, in fact. While he did so almost perfectly, and as effective as before, on the inside he felt like he was on the brink of death. Not knowing if Leonard was still alive. Not being able to find out. Suffering with the final images of scared eyes and bloody lips.

When they were surveying neighbouring stars or new spatial anomalies - nothing that required his focus - he would pull the black cord necklace off from around his neck and hold it in his lap. The silver ring never failed to catch the light, nor anyone else's attention when he turned it over in his hands, eyes looking at something none of them could see.

No one asked. They didn't have to.

Sometimes he dreamt of Leonard, sighing against his flesh, smiling at him, leaning into his embrace…

There were days he ached so much that he almost couldn't get out of bed. He'd lie there, silent tears running down his face as he thought about what could've been. What  _ should've _ been.

It was almost like his own McCoy knew when this would happen, and he was the only thing getting him up on those mornings. He'd show up on those no good, very bad days, with a coffee in hand and a sympathetic ear, ready to listen. Not that James ever spoke. The words always got caught in his throat, threatening to spill forth as tears instead of sentences.

McCoy, and Spock, understood though. They agreed to share dinners in either of their quarters instead of the mess, where people laughed and joked with each other, unable to see just how much it hurt their captain to see them like that.

On the  _ really _ bad days, though, there was nothing either one could do but leave him be. James would curl up in bed, unresponsive, the ring dancing between his fingers while he had the computer play the same song, over and over and over again. Sometimes he'd sing along, others, not so much.

“ _ Country roads, take me home… _ ”

Nothing changed until after the five-year mission. Perhaps it was the change in scenery, where he was no longer on a familiar ship with different people haunting their halls. Or maybe it was because he finally was able to move past the worst of it. Either way, he smiled a little more, but he never  _ really  _ moved on. He tried, one night, in the arms of a woman named Carol, but it wasn’t… wasn't Leonard.

Just like Spock had said, on that fateful day. James Kirk was never the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry not sorry 
> 
> Stay tuned for the last, bittersweet chapter which will be posted next week! It'll wrap everything up!


	11. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's short and bittersweet :)

The year is 2293.

The newly-christened  _ U.S.S. Enterprise-B _ had responded to a distress call from two vessels, each tasked with transporting El-Aurian refugees to Earth. Once on location, the  _ Enterprise  _ found the vessels trapped in a powerful gravimetric field, which emanated from the trailing edge of a highly volatile energy ribbon.

Already, the _S.S. Robert Fox_ was lost to the energy ribbon, so the _Enterprise_ could beam the remaining crew and passengers from the _S.S._ _Lakul._ Transport was difficult, with life signs in a state of temporal flux, phasing in and out of the space-time continuum. When the _Lakul_ lost structural integrity, they were only to beam forty-seven people.

The  _ Enterprise  _ itself became caught in the gravimetric field after and was unable to escape. When it was realised that a resonance burst fired from the main deflector might disrupt the field long enough for the ship to break free, thanks to the genius of Montgomery Scott, Admiral James T. Kirk himself went to modify the deflector relays. 

Although this was successful, Kirk himself was pulled into the Nexus when an energy discharge impacted the section of the ship where Kirk was stationed.

* * *

 

The warm, humid air. The twittering songs of birds. The heady smell of white pine. These were the things James noticed first.

When he opened his eyes, he knew where he was immediately. Granted, it had been decades since he’d last seen it, but he’d recognise it anywhere. Great, healthy pines surrounded the clearing he stood in, casting some areas of tall, dry wheat in a cool shade that he could remember laying in on summer days.

Just hidden in the treeline, he could see the house he spent his childhood in. It looked just as he remembered it being: faded wood and a bench swing on the porch. His mother used to read him stories there on muggy nights, the light of the moon, some iced tea, and the occasional firefly to set their scene.

“ _ Almost heaven, West Virginia, Blue Ridge Mountains, Shenandoah River, _ ” A familiar voice sang softly. So familiar, in fact, that it  _ hurt _ , “ _ Life is old there, older than the trees, younger than the mountains, blowin’ like a breeze. _ ”

Tears sprung forth unbidden as he turned away from the house and to the source. The singer’s back was turned to him and was running his hands through the wheat reaching his waist, but James would recognise the line of those shoulders anywhere. He found himself whispering the next verse. As quiet as his words were, they sounded loud and harsh, even over the faint rustles of wind in the leaves, “ _ Country roads, take me home, to the place I belong _ ,” The figure stopped his movements, his singing cut short, “ _ West Virginia, mountain mamma… _ ”

James couldn’t finish as he choked on his emotions, but Leonard had no problem picking up where he left off, spinning around to face him, “ _ Take me home, country roads _ ,” His lips curled into a beatific smile. He looked a little older than he last remembered, with gentle crow’s feet by his eyes and a smattering of grey in his hair. But it was  _ him _ , “You know the song. Didn’t know you’d learned it,” A coy laugh hidden behind a calloused hand, “You’re a pretty good singer, darlin’.”

“Len,” He sobbed out, rushing forward with his arms outstretched. As he stumbled, not unlike a newborn fowl, Leonard met him with a grace that had alarms going off in the back of his mind. Alarms James ignored in favour of falling to his knees, gripping Leonard’s soft pants in his trembling hands and releasing soft cries into his stomach. They only increased in intensity when fingers carded through his hair, a huff of laughter escaping the doctor’s lips. 

“Your hair got curly. I like it.” 

“I thought I'd never see you again. I thought… I had thought the worst.” 

“Hush now,” He muttered, wrapping his arms around James’ shoulders in an embrace, “You've done so good for yourself, and done so much. I’m so proud of you. Now it's time to rest.” Strong hands pulled James up and so in awe he was, he stood without complaint, eyes searching Leonard's face. 

Again, something at the back of his mind told him this wasn't real, that something wasn't right. 

“Come,” Leonard took his hand with a grin and tugged him to the back porch a distance away. The light caught on the simple band on Leonard's finger, sitting just below an equally simple diamond ring. It matched the band that always hung around James’ neck, and the sight sent a warm feeling through his body, “The weather is perfect for some of my ma’s special sweet tea, don’t you think? I made a pitcher of it not too long ago. Would you like some?” 

As soon as James set foot on the hardwood of the porch, any hesitation and doubt left him. This felt right. Perfect. Complete. It made him feel whole.

This was where he was meant to be.

“I would love some.”

And for the people who were still victims of time, their skin losing its lividity and hair greying, backs curving and fingers become gnarled, James Tiberius Kirk, admiral, died a hero.

* * *

 

 **The Nexus** _(n)_. An extra-dimensional realm in which one's thoughts and desires shape reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope this was a little heartbreaking. Watch Star Trek: Generations if you haven't yet, it'll put some of this into perspective!
> 
> There’s a chance I’ll revisit this in the distant future to make it better (and hopefully longer) as I’m trying to improve my writing, but for now, I’m pretty happy with it.
> 
> If you ask, I'll let you know what happened to the real Leonard :)


End file.
